Virginia free press. (Charlestown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1832-1916, 1870-05-23
MISCELLANEOUS.
Heart Graves.

The earth is great churchyard, full of
graves with no headstones and no oyergrowng
grass. Full of vaults, not built in the shape OF
dim chapels, nor upon green hillsides, but
borne about in living charnel houses, even in
beating hearts. We walk with the dead under
our feet, by our sides, and saddeSt Of all, within
our hearts. There are therein fewer graves
with stoned columns, than without. Human
beings have bright and idolzed hopes, but they
perish, and are buried without epitaphs.-
They form expectations that fall in single
moment. and are mourned for lifetime, yet
with an unspoken lamentation. There are
more ashes in living beings than in sculptured
funeral urns, and they are pale, cold ashes, too,
that lie upon living Goals Of life, till the hame
is smothrred and gone; cold ashes that are
swept from the ruins of such proud, high tenn
pies as youth and hope and young love only
build They are heaped high over the dark
ruins; and when a single ray Of sunshine falls
upon them. He smiles, and is happy. Oh,
how these temples have been wept for when
they have fallen How the gorgeous castles
have been mourned for when they have crum-
bled. and the brilliantly Illuminated iancles,
when they have faded in darkness. All in
silence have these graves been dug. Bitter
tears have hallowed them when the companion
on the pillow knew not that they were shed.
The soul has prostrated itself in its sad Gem
etery when the world has seen the man or wo-
man stand proudly erect. 1t has been said
that there are souls that have no summer, but
it is not so. If winter covers all, it is because
the spring flowers have died, aud the young
hopes perishel and been buried in those sad,
sad sepulchers. The burial services have often
been said when God was only priest, good an
gels the only pail bearers, and the lone heart
the only mourner.
Brothers have made graves and sisters not
known it. Sisters have buried idols and bro
theirs not known they were worshipped. Hus-
bands have laid away the dead out of the sight
Of wives, and wives made sopulcbers which
husbands have never seen.
No grass grows on these graves-no birds
sing to them, and no flowers spread their sweet
perfume above them. The dead lie not quietly
in them. That they are not dead but sleep
ing" might truly be written on their tombs,
for the pale occupants glide in and out at all
hours of life, and resurrection is but the sig
nal for a new burial.
So vO live, and smile. and count our joys
whicwecarry graves in our bosoms, aud havet the
dead ever for companons-dead hopes, dead
loves. dead ambitions and desires. The heart
gathers October leaves from its garden, and
piles them high on its mould Of death, but the
gales Of life drift them of, and the tombs stand
naked and forlorn Sometimes we may read
an inscription in the dimmed eye, and the sill
vered hair, the strange lines of care, and the
bent form; but usually each sees but the dead
Of his own heart. When the morning Of the
resurrection comes TO that phantom thing
which lies buried in human boSoms, we shall
meet within the gates of the Golden City, and
the vast multitude may come up purified and
made beautiful but no longer mourned.