Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1878-02-23
A VOICE FROM NEGLECTED
GRAVEYARD.

the shortness of life. On that subject
you are referred to Father Abraham,
where he said, "They hear not Mo
ses and the Prophets, neither will
they be persuaded though one rose
from the dead"
One evening not long since | was
walking leisurely along, enjoying
the freshness of the balmy breeze,
which whispered gently of early
Spring. Ny footsteps led me near
our city burying-grOund. l paused
Mt the gate, entered and, as best /
could, made my way through. My
feet were constantly being entangled
in the weeds, long matted grass,
briers and other spontaneous growth
peculiar to neglected soil. Being
weary and in a meditative mood, i
seated myself on a fragment of an
old, dilapidated tombstone. My
heart sank within me at the air of
desolation that met my view. Shad-
ows of the past doomed up before
me. In fancy L was carried back to
the days "lang syne," when care
and attention gave to everything
around a look of brightness, and be-
meath our feet an emerald carpet
strewn with beautiful flowers. Alto
gether, il wax one Of the saddest,
sweetest places of my early recollec-
ton.
Twas here the weary, Careworn
tOiler came TO rest and reflect; twas
here the student brought his books,
and, as he pOred over their ancient
lore, drew inspiration from the sur
rounding beauties twas beneath
the spreading boughs of those druid
oaks that lovers kept their tryst.
Many a vow has been exchanged
here, sealed and hallowed by the
memory of loved ones that lay sleep
ing near them. As | thus sat,
flooded by the tide Of memory, sadly
contrasting the past with the pres
ent, shadows deepened around me;
soft twilight with its soothing infiu-
enceS fell like an ethereal mantle,
shutting me in from the busy world
without; mingled voices, like fairy
music, fell upon my ear. Among
the chorus of sounds, l heard the
following sad refrain: "Dear loved
ones of earth, our mortal bodies are
very lonely here in our narrow beds;
we once loved the bright sunshine,
fragrant flowers and merry songs of
birds as you do now; the immortal
spirits ofsOmeof us hovering around,
waiting to be reunited at the sound
of GabriePs trumpet, often whisper
OF the time when our vigils were
Cheered by the music of the birds
that dwelt In the leafy bowers above
our silent graves, but alas! they now
hide their faces beneath their wings
and weep DER the dreary scene"
/ fancied a plaintive voice near me
spoke: "Dear hushand," it said,
''you used TO be very kind and ten
der with me, and sought to strew
my pathway with bright flowers
aud shield me with your strong arm
from the rough storms of mortal
life; can you not provide some pro-
lection for my last resting place
something that will guard this little
spot sacred from the rude footsteps
of careless mOrtalS, and remove
these thOrns and briers that pierce
my bed ~ Darling wife," said
another, "yOu who were the guar
dian angel of my household and
light of my fireside, will you not
clear away the rubbish, root up the
nOXious weeds, and in their place
plant a rose and trailing vine, and
Irvine the cypress and myrtle and
let them bloom over meH' And
from lonely mound near by heard
another say, Lovely sister, pause
Ger you engage in the giddy dance,
and ask yourself if you have planted
that evergreen you intended for my
grave. Your gentle look and kind,
loving words have often wOoed me
from the midnight revel. Will YOU
not spare me Il sprig from your
flower garden TO brighten my lonely
grave?" Daughter, do you remem-
her how we labOred together in the
cultivation of sweet flowers to glad
den and beautify our home there?
| know that the name Mother is en-
Shrined in your heart of hearts, yet
it seems l could sleep more peace
fully with the assurance that some
OfthOse sweet flowers were blooming
around me, planted by your loving
hand" Papa, mama, where are
YOU that you let your little darling
lie here SO lonely? Please come and
take away these cruel thorns and
briers and plant an infant rose,
some violets and forget-me-nOts."
Young friends and boon compan-
ions, you with whom l have met in
all circumstances in life, your names
are associated with every varied
scene of my mortal existence. We
have studied the same lessons, pc
rused the same books, participated
in the same sports, and enjoyed a
mutual interchange of confidence.
1 implore you to pause sometime in
your midnight orgies and bestow
one serious thought on the condition
of the place where your friend lies
sleeping. Will you not to try to inn
prove it?'' "Friends and fellow
sufferers of Adams fallen race, we
have stood upon the walls of Zion
and faithfully warned you to pre-
pare to meet the foe which, sooner
or later, will attack your gates.
Though our dust is mingling with
its mother dust, and our names have
almost passed into oblivion, yet we
har az YOU TO redeem our graves