Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1879-01-31

To him, who In the love Of Nature. holds
Communion with her visible forms, ste peaks
A various language for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and smile
Aad eloquencs OF beauty and she glides
Into his darker musings with mild
And gentle sympathy, that steals asay
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thyushts
OF the last bitter hour come like blight
over thy spirit. and sd images
of the stern agony, and shrou1, and pail,
And breathless darkness, ami the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder and grow sick ut heart,
Go forth under the open sky, and list
10 Natures teachings while from all around
Earth and her waters. and the depths OF air
Comes still voice-1et ct few days and thee
The all beholding sun shall sec no more
In all his course, nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form WAS laid, with many tears,
Nor in the image OF ocean shall exist
Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall
claim
Thy growth. to be resolved to earth again.
And lost each human trace, surrenderingup
Thine individual being. shalt thou 20
To mix forever with the elements;
To be a brother to the insensible rock,
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turas with his share. and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mold.
Ye. not to thine eternal restin. place
Shalt thou retire slone-nor co ildst thou wish
Couch more ma n hcent. Thou shalt lie down
With patriarchs Of the infant world-with kings,
The powerful Of the earth-the wise, the good.
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mi shty sepulchre. The hills,
ROck-ribbed and ancient as the sun the wales
Stretching in pens i've Quetness between;
The venerable woods; rivers that move
In msjesty ard the compainingg brooks
That make the meadows green ard poured round
all,
Old oceans grRyand melancholy waste
Are but the solemn decorations all
OF the great tomb Of man The golden sum-
The planets. all the infinite host OF heaven,
Are shining on the sal abodes OF death,
Tnrough the sill lapse o: ages. All that tread
Tho globe are but handful TO the tribes
That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings
or morning, traverse Barcas desert sands,
or lose thy self in the continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound
Save his own dlshinss-J ct the dead are thers
And millions ia those sOlitudes, since hrst
The ght .! years began, have laid them down
In their last s.eep-the dead reign there alone
10 shalt thou rest and what u thou withdraw
In silence rom the living, and no friend
lake note Of thy departure, All tnat breathe
VIII share tly destiny. The gay Will laugh
When thou art gone, the solemn brood OF care
Plod on. and each one, as before, Will chase
His fayorite phantom yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their cmpoyments, ana shaH come
Aud make their bed with thee. A the long train
OF ages glide away, the sons Of men
The youth in liie's green spring, aud he whs goes
In the iull strength Of years matron and maid,
And the sweet babe, and the gray-haired msr-
Shall, one by one. be gathered TO thy side
BY those who in their turn shall follow them.
So live that whea thy summons comes to join
Ihe innumerdble caravan that moves
To the pale rea ms of shade where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls OF death,
Thou 90 net, ike the qrarry-slave at night,
scoursed TO his dungeon, but sustained and
soothed
By an uufaltering trust, approach thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapery OF his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.