The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1874-06-06
For the Union
AaInt M0rthU'S Grace.

On a beautiful Sabbath afternoon-l7th ulto.
| Il walked out to Greenmount Cemetery and
| enjoyed quiet stroll through that lovely rest
ing place Of the dead, meditating upon past and
solemn, yet, to a contemplatve mind touching
iy impressive. Spring had just put on her
tenderest, freshest garniture. Every air SEEM
ed ladened with spicy perfumes. There was
mild atmosphere. slowly setting sun deep
| ening into gold and crimson adorned the azure
west. Wild flowers of every hue could be seen.
| Here and there birds f1uttered and warbled
amid gracefully bending boughs. Woodbines
| twined over with ivy crept around and about
| hallowed tombs where slept in deaths repose
| long loved ones, sacred to the memory of
kindred visitors. All conspired to lend denchant-
entsuch as is known only to sweet melancholy.
| Passing along gracefully sloping hill not
distant from the main entrance, in view of the
outer western wall, my attention was attracted
to a handsomely enclosed and adorned lot, in
the midst thereof rising marble monument,
surrounded by mounds, beneath which slept
the peaceful dead. Casually observing, there
noticed gentleman, apparently of middle age,
with his wife and four little children, all neat
ly clad.
Two of them were girls between four and six
years of age--the others boys, ranging from
seven and a-half to nine. All were inside the
enclosure, paying, doubtless, a commemorative
visit to the tombs of their near relatives
Though not far off l was, perhaps, unnoticed
by them, they being so deeply absorbed in PEN
| sive thought.
The smallest girl, cherubic, bright little
creature, espying, in her artless simplicity, a
| grass-covered mound, fervently asked, "Whose
grave is that?" Her mother replying, said,
"Thats your Aunt Martha's-she sleeps there" ="
With quick impulse of thought, natural to life
| itself, the little innocent exclaimed, 80, is
Aunt Martha sleeping there Then will strew
some flowers on her grave" In childish sim
plicity she plucked what wild flowers were
| within reach, just sprung up at the first blush
of genial May, stood over the tomb, and drop
ping them upon it, said, "Aunt Martha, here's
flower for you-yes, here's another and an
other-will you think Of me?"
The incident was so touching and poetical
that, being inspired by the muses., composed
the following stanzas. They are now dedica-
ted TO
AUNT MARTHA'S LITTLE NIECE.
YHER UNKNOWN FRIEND, "NEsToR."
Dear mother! tell me-what is this
That rises here ?-is it grave?
| Yes-Aunt Martha's land you must miss
| Her-do you not? Too true-0 save
This heart of mine, 1 fear twill break,
To think Aunt Martha is no more,
Or that she can we children take,
kissing us as she did before.
How often have we kneeled and prayed,
Morning and evening by her side,
All full of hope, who not afraid,
Knowing dear Auntie was our guide.
o how we loved her. Tell us why
She went away-can you good Ma?
Yes--God called her beyond the sky,
Where all of us must go-and Pa!
Then it is we'll that we should know,
Some day we'll leave this dreary earth,
And live where the painted rainbow
Arches in heaven and has its birth.
That's true, dear child-there's nothing here
| Save feeting show and certain death
We only live to smile, and fear,
Dependent on passing breath.
Mother !-Pm going to put some flowers
On Aunt Marthas tomb, because |
Fondly loved her-for she was ours,
Lives with us now in memory;
So, too, I'll drop child's pure tear
To moisten where they gently fall,
Letting her know that we are near,
With father, brothers, sisters-all!
Then here's-Aunt Martha-just for you,
A tender rose all freshly blown;
plucked it mid the morning dew;
1t is an offering of my own.
Still, still another wild flowers given,
Fen sweeter than the one before,
Pure as her spirit now in heaven;
But hats not all-there's more-yes, more
Down, down they dropped from little hands
: Full gulded by slnless neart,
AS if obeying Gods commands,
Which, to that child He did impart.
Till the green grave was covered DER
With tokens of affection sweet,
More precious than earth's golden lore,
Speaking of love upreme--complete.
what heavenly joy was there!
To think guiless heart like this,
Remembers still its kindred dear,
Long passed away to endless bliss.
IT'S worth a world of life TO know,
That when our eyes have closed on earth,
We're thought of by kind friends below
How priceless is such sacred worth
All here would be a dreary waste,
But for that love so strong and pure,
Which, in fond memory's shrine is traced,
Bidding us know it must endure.
After this body turns to dust
Is seen no more by mortal eye
Yet, something makes us hope and trust,
We're still embalmed in memory.
If at any time this little romance, founded o.
fact comes to the knowledge, through you