The New era. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1865-1871, 1866-09-20

hour in Greenhill Cemetery. 1t was a
bright and beautiful day-not cloud
to canopy mortalitys resting place.
We walk on with saddened thoughts,
for even the clear, blue sky, the fra
grant shrubbery and beautiful flowers,
cannot make us forget. In each ave-
nue. familiar names of yesterday, we'll
remembered ones of years "lang syne,
look out from the cold marble which
rests upon them. We passed them by
we stood in their midst, and yet we
were alone! How strange it seemed
that all which was left of that throng
once known to US should be the sculp-
tured words to tell us they had lived
and died! This sad departure-this
fitting away from the earth and hearts
which would hold them here-this sleep
called death-how incomprehensible it
is-how hard to realize the truth! And
yet, as one wanders through the silent
ranks of those who have gone before,
with nothing to jar upon the mystical
teachings of the green hillocks piled
above the pulseless bosom of the dead,
there will gradually come over him a
resigned and tranquil submission to the
Unalterable. He feels like resting his
weary head beside those who have for
gotten, in eternity, the paltry strife of
years.
How much of sadness and beauty there
is in the scene around us. How many
histories of bereavement are recorded
here. Let us read the title pages out
of each book of sorrow.
4 marble column stands near us.
'sOur baby; we have kissed and laid
her down to Sleep is the touching
story, and mothers who look in upon
that baby's messy bed, draw their own
little ones closer to them, and with sub
dued voices, pass on.
Step softly. A new-made grave.
Flowers are its only monument. \
little white rosebush is dropping with
its wealth of fading bud..
We keep along the Winding path and
pause again. The fair form of one
whose life went out in the springtime,
has been placed under the flowers near
by. The angels called her hence, even
when spring-Aowers sought to WOO her
back to earth.
Two more little nameless graves.
Two children side by side. The rose
and the acacia tell that Il mother still
guards their rest
Entwincd in the bright green leaves,
gemmed with buds of every hue, we
see Little Nettie" Another mother
has laid her darling down to sleep, and
that once dear household word is now
whispered in tears.
1t is very sad to walk in these leafy
avenues, and yet we keep on.
\ touching record Of bereaved
home is on the marble at our side.
"Our baby sleeps here are the words,
and we find it hard to read them, though
they are, perhaps, very plainly there.
A young lamb is sculptured in the mar
BILE aboye-one whom the Good Shop
herd has folded to his bosom rests be-
MEATH
Here entombed rest husband, wife
and children. 4 finished chapter of
life's trials; with them there is no more
parting.
Eve children from one mothers bo-
som, sleeping side by side. They fol-
lowed each other like sunny days; the
night came to each, and ere the month
was ended they were gone. And now
their faces only dwell in memory, and
undying love daily wreathes the flowers
above them. How much of .lnutterable
anguish remained after those four little
graves We're filled
Here, above the rose bush shrubbery,
rises "a marble shaft. My Mary, is
the simple inscription sculptured on its
face. They are words from husbands
pure heart. How much of love and
affection are contained in those words:
yet as we read they seem like the wall
of a broken heart