The post. [volume] (Middleburg, Snyder County, Pa.) 1864-1883, 1870-07-07
SELECT POETRY.
OH! WHY should fhc spirit of
Mortal be Proud!
nv WILLIAM KNOX.

OH why should the spIrit Of NOR tai he proud;
Jikca swit neeting meteor, n fast flying cloud,
flash OF the lightning, break Of the wave.
Man passeth from life TO his rest in the grave.
Tho leaves " tho oak and the willow may fade.
Re scattered around. and together bc ladi
And the young and the old, aud the low and the
high.
shall mouldcr to odnst, nnd together ,hall lie.
The nfhn, mother attendeia and loved,
The mother that Infants affection who proved
The husband. that mother and infant who blcst,
Each, all, are away to their dwelling OF rest.
Tho m9Id on whose check, on whose brow, in
shonc beauty and plcnsurc--hor trlumrhs are
And the memory Of those who loved her and
arc alike from the minds Of the living erased.
Tho hand Of tho King that tho sccp;rc hath
borne,
Tho brow of tho priest that tho metre hath worn.
The eye of the sage, AMI the heart Of the brave.
Are hidden aud lost IN the depths OF the grave.
The peasant, vho'e lot was 10 SOW and 10 rrar.
The herdsman, who climbed with his goats up
the stcop,
The hcggar, who wandered In search Of his
bread,
Have fadoj away like the grass that we tread.
The .alnt, who enjoyed tho communion Of
Heaven.
The sinner. who dared to remain unrorglvcu,
The wisc and tho foolish. the guilty and lrst
Have quietly mingled their bones In the dust.
SO the multitude gocs-lIkc tho flower or the
n gsl. -. - -.
So the multitude comos-cvcu those wc hohp,i,
To repeat every tale that has ofton been told.
Tor We arc the same that ou- fathers have been ,
We see the same sights that our fathers have
seen;
We drink the .amc stream, and We Wow the
And We run the same course that our fathers
have run
The thoughts we arc thinking, our fathers
wonld think
From the death We are shrinking, our fathers
To the life We are clInging, thev also would
But II speeds from us all like bird on the wing.
They loyci--jut the story VIC cannot unrold;
They scornci-but the heart OF tho naughty T.
cold
They srleycd-b but no wall from their slumbor
will come
They ioycd-but the tongue Of their glidncss Is
dumb.
They dIci-ay, they died and We things that
now,
who walk on the turf that lies over their brow,
And make IN their dwellings treasured nhnle,
Meet the things that they met on their pilgrim.
goroad.
Yea hone end dependency, pleasure and pain,
We mingle together In sunshine and rain
And the smile and tho tear, the song and the
dirRe,
stIll follow each other, like surge upon surge.
It's the wink fan cye-'tis tho drausht OF a
From the blossom ofhealth to the palencss Of
death,
From the giied saloon to the bier and the
shruui -.
oh why should tho spirit Of mortal be proud
The above beautiful poem NAV lie Justly re.
gardei ne one otthe hnest productions IN our
language. As such We commend IL to the care.
iul porusal of our readers.
II was the fayorite selection of Abraham Lin.
coin, who often rehcarsed n with deep feeling.
No doubt the spirit that provades IL eXerted an
influence on tue lie OF that great, good and
humble man.
This poem WAS written by a young Scotchmnn,
who bore name that Is venerated by every true
son OF Caledonia. lie lived during the times of
sir Walter scott, and died in Edinburg, us25l
az the early age oi 30.