The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928, 1884-11-07
MUSINGS IN A CEMETERY.
Thoughts Suggested by the Quiet
Eloquence of the Silent Dead.


Thoughts Suggested by the Quiel
Eloquence of the Silent Dead.
Louisville Courier Journal.
In the northwestern portion of the
beautiful cemetery of Lexington, upon
an eminence that presents vista OF
winding roads and graveled walks in
terspersed with shrubbery whose inter
lacing boughs form arbors that invite
the weary to linger in its silent hooks;
beneath the outrageous bowers, sit
alone, amidst the silence of the sepul-
chers. Beyond me, not far distant, lies
mirrored lake that gently rises and
and ripples against the borders of the
bluegrass shores, upon whose banks no
echoing footsteps fall, for here in this
consecrated region silence reigns al
most supreme. There towers around
me in majestic grandeur, noble forest
trees; they could have told a strange
story, for they have waxed hoary with
the frost of many a winter. Beneath
their wide and outstretched arms many
a dusky maiden has been woOed by her
Indian lover, while they looked upon
the immeasurable scroll of the heavens
and pictured the happy hunting grounds
that the Great Spirit had prepared be-
yond the grave. Their camp-fires have
smoldered, their lullabys are hushed,
and the weird legends that they once
told in mournful numbers are now ut
tered in tradition by the descendants of
those who drove them from their own
possessions-departed children of
strange and cruel destiny, stragglers
through the shadowy valley of death,
cropping in obscurity and superstition,
away to the far west, for yours is
wretchedness and woe. Ask for bread
when you are starving, and you will
get powder from a government that
processes everything and does nothing.
Standing upon the highest elevation
of this sacred inclosure is the monu-
ment of Henry Clay, the great COM
moner, whose God-like eloquence
swelled with patriotic zeal the bosoms
of his enthusiastic countrymen. Upon
the apex of this monument is the statue
of Clay, facing with mute eyes the
grave of young Harry Clay, the last of
that great miracle of eloquence, the
matchless Henry Clay-a young man
shot down in the morning of his glory,
when hopes were brightest and success
was sure, one whose soul was mirror
of tenderness and love, allied with a
spirit gentle and pacific, in whose overt
character there was all to admire and
nothing to censure. The prospect that
laid before him stimulated him to in
creased effort to reach the goal that
beckoned him on. The harvest was
golden, but before it was garnered the
reaper fell a prey to death, in the midst |
Of career that bid fair to lead him to |
the most exalted heights of honor and
high station.
Grouped in silent protest lies, num-
oered with the dead, the nameless
raves of the confederates; a fitting
monument tells its melancholy story, as
With broken flagstaff and shivered
sword, it speaks as plainly as whispers
% the ear, lost, forgiven, but not for
rotten Wrapped in their martial robes
hey lie slumbering in the "bivouac of
he dead;" no booming cannon will
aise them from their lowly bed, no
martial strains will animate them to
4ction; they antagonized what they
hought to be in their honest hearts a
respass upon honor and sacred rights,
menace and defiance that was
Haunted in their
cry faces. But the old wounds are no
,nger bleeding, the bitter hatred and
ceilings of enmity have long since died
way. There are tears for those de-
arted, and love for those that remain;
matters not whether he wore blue .
oat or a oray, the hand of fellowship is
xtended to both.
1t is pleasant to see old generals of
ther side standing upon the rostrum s
public assemblies and dwelling with S
,arful tenderness upon the painful t
of the past. To that I
ian who waves with vulgar insinua- '
ons the bloody shirt that he helped to I
nbue with the blood of his fellow '
.eatures whether he comes from the i
orth or the south, he should be in 7
,libly stamped as base and ignoble. d
G should be ostracised from society as
dangerous member, and alienated b
ON all honest men regardless of party il
iiliations. 1t is dead issue her. p
etrically sealed; do not unearth the v
.eleton to shake his ghastly bones :.
here peace and quietude preside.
Sleep, soldiers, sleep, and may n
yrtle and sweet ivy twine themselves S
ound your lonely graves. Apart o
om mother and from home, you fell &
,hting for your country and your k
use. Strangers deposed you in your I
WY bed; you tore yourselves from Il
g arms of mothers and sisters and "
oked your last upon their tear-stained a
ces; you fell amid the smoke of battle h
d the crash of arms, never to rise 4
til that great day when we shall g
md contemporary beneath the same t'
nner, panoplied in armors that are 81
to the pricks of misery Sc
d woe. a