Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1866-06-28
life Is far more inconvenient than ro-
mantle, or even practicable.

life Is far more inconvenient than ro-
mantle, or even practicable.
Our old friend told Us an anecdote OF
a boy of our town, whose father was
Democrat, There was a group of little
fellows, embryo politicians, all going to
be Just what their fathers were. "Well,
said one, my father is Federalist."
This little fellow, who had got some diff
ferent names which he had heard little
mixed, said impatiently, "My father is
Hypocrite,"
Not long since we spent leisure af-
ternoon in wandering through the old
graveyard where our foreiathers pious'
ly buried their dead. TWAS beautiful
thought to sleep so near the church,
where on every Sabbath the voice of
prayer echoed by so many hearts arises
a sweet incense TO Heaven, and the sing
ing of praises floats over and dies away
among the tOmbs.
Many quaint inscriptions of early
date caaght our eye, in which loving
and bereaved hearts expressed their sor-
row, their resignation and their hope.
We found often that old and familiar
epitaph
"Remember friends as you pass by
As You are now, so once was J.;
As I am now, you soon must be;
Prepare for death and follow me-
We saw this once elsewhere, after
which some profane hand had written
with pencil:
81 should like to know first where you have
gone
We felt that there could be no doubt
in following those who had been dwell
ers in quiet New England town, and
who had lain them down to sleep so
peacefully under the very shadow of
this church, so dear and sacred.
"A pause in time,
For noble themes above.
A simple epitaph which we read on a
stone bearing date 1896, seemed to US a
fit memorial for all these.
A sad satire on life, sad indeed but for
the hope of the hereafter we found on
an old and discolored slab:
"Once sprightly and gay,
| Then deCripid and gray,
Now mOldering to clay,
| To be raised at the last great day
Over the grave of a child, drowned in
Castletou river, in 1896 we read:
Dear child. it was "a furious stream
That waited thy spirit away.
Furious to the mother mourning for
her child, but we could not refrain a
smile at the term applied to that quiet,
silver stream Of water.
-Four score and four revolving
suns had passed,
| When Christ, my Savior, called
Me home at last
A long, perhaps a weary life, gone
home at last. The date was 1905.
Farther on we noticed deaths head
and the words;
20, relentless Death"
We can well Judge of the life OF her
for whom this inscription was carved
date 1906
when such a friend of virtue dies.
The world her memory long reyeres,
Religion mOurns in countless signs
and friendship pOursa thousand tears
| On stone close beside that OF this
good woman, we deciphered the follow
ing with its old time spelling
MY flesh shall rest in hope
| and sweet reposc
TIL that great day
When time and nature close
Then spring to life
al the last trumpct'S sound
See heaven unfold
! and worlds desOlviDg around
/ Amazing scene
Reader II meet Won there
0! God support and save us
| from despair
We scraped with our knife the moss
from another stone and with great diff.
Guilty made ont these lines
Friend Of my youth yc are hqstinr away
| Grave il there room in your chamber of cays
/ We who have hithcr so hastily fled
Say is there room in your green cushion bedy
The anxious questioner has long since
found an answer
Death but entombs the body.
Life, the soul"
Beautiful thought, and death had en-
tOmbed that body long and the soul had
had some sweet taste OF life, for so old
and defaced was the slab we could
scarcely deCipher the words.
The prophecy Of the following, date
| 1908, is long ago realized:
"SOme hearty friend shall drop tear
| On our dry bones and SPY.
These once were strong as mine appear
And mine be as they"
We noticed the name of several sold
| iers Of the revolution. Once standing
| by their graves we should have believed
that such valOr and patriotism as was
theirs, had passed forever away with the
breath Of those stern men of rs, but
now there are newly made graves in our
cemetery Of those that sleep as only the
brave sleep.
***"who ainks to rest
With all their cOuntrys wishes best"
Ay, and they were as brave, as true,
as the bravest and truest of olden time
and story.
We copied our small blank book full
of old and curious inscriptions but we
will give but one now, which left deep