Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1882-03-14
The Graves OF those who love.

ton. It is there the divine passion OF
the soul manifests its superiority, to the
instructive impulse of mere animal at
tachment. The latter must be continu-
ally refreshed and kept alive by the pre-
sence of its object; but the love that is
seated in the soul can live on long re
membrance. The mere inclinations of
sense languish and decline with the
charms which excite them, and turn
with shuddering and disgust from the
dismal precincts of the tomb; but 1t Is
thence that truly spiritual affection rises
purified from every sensual desire, and
returns like holy flame, to illumine
and sanctify the heart Of the survivor.
The sorrow for the dead is the only
sorrow from which we refuse to be d.
vorced. Every other we would seek to
heal-every other aff1iction to forget but
this wound we consider it duty to
keep-this affiiction we cherish and
mother who would willingly forget the
her arms, though every recollection is
a pang? Where is the child who would
willingly forget the most tender of par
ents, even in the hour of agony? Who
even when the tomb is closing upon the
remains of her he most loved. when he
feels his heart as i. were crushed in the
closing of its portal, would accept OF
consolation that must be bought by for
getfulness? No-the love which sur
wives the tomb is one of the noblest at
tributes of the soul. If it has woes 1t
likewise has its delights; and when the
overwhelming burst of grief is Gained
into the gentle tear of recollection
when the sudden anguish and the con-.
vulsive agony is over, the present ru1ns
of all that we most loved, Is softened
away into pensive meditations on all
that it was in the days of its loveliness
who would root out such a sorrow
from the heart. Though 1t may some
times throw a passing cloud over the
bright hour of gaiety or spread G.deeper
sadness over the hour of gloom, yet who
would exchange it even for the song OF
pleasure or the burst of revelry? No
there is the voice from the tomb sweet.
Or than song. There is remembrance
of the dead to which we return even
from the charms of the living. e. Oh, the
grave! It buries every error, covers ev-
cry defect-eXtinguishe every resent
ment. From its peaceful bosom springs
none but fond regrets and tender recol-
lections. Who can look down upon the
grave of an enemy and not feel COM
parative throb that he should ever have
warred with the poor handful of earth
that lies mOuldering before him.
But the graves of those we loved
what place of meditation! There it is
that we call up in long review the whole
history of virtue and gentleness, and the
thousand endearments lavished upon us
almost unheeded in the daily intercourse
of intimacy-there it is that the ten
derness of the parting scene the bell of
death with all its nOiseless attendance
it's mute watchful assiduities! the last
testimonies of expiring love-oh how
thrilling-pressure of the hand! the
faint faltering accents struggling in
death to give one more assurance OF at.
fiction.
Aye 60 to the grave Of buried love, and
mediate. There settle the account with
thy conscience for every past benefit
unrequited, every past endearment I'M
regarded, of that departed being who
can never, never return to be sO0thed
by thy contritions.
If thou art child and hast ever add
ed a sorrow to the soul or q furrow to
the silver brow of an afectionate parent
If thou art a husband and hast ever
caused the fond bosom that ventured its
whole happiness in thy arms to doubt
one moment of thy truth if thou art a
friend and hast ever wronged in
thought, or word or deed the spirit that
generously confided in thee; if thou art
a lover and hast ever given one unmerit-
ed pang to that true heart which now
lies cold and still beneath thy feet-then
be sure that every unkind look, every
ungracious word, every ungentle act
will come thronging back upon thy
memory, and knocking dolefully at thy
soul-then be sure that thou will lie
down in sorrow and inrepenting on the
grave utter the unheard groan and pour
the unavailing tear, more deep, more
bitter because unheard and unavailing..
- Washington Zrving.