The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1888-09-01
For the Democratic Advocate.
Musings in Harmony Churchyard-
The Memory of the Dead.

The memory of the dead! How we love to think
of those who have passed away from earth. We
miss their presence o. how keenly We seem to be
waiting for their return as from journey, for It's
hard to realize that they have passed through 1.-THE
valley of the shadow" But here in this peaceful
spot where the smell of the fresh earth from the
newly-made grave reminds us of our own of our
mortality, we feel that We are alone. Alone? o
no-there are lights along the shore" God is with
us-faces of other near and dear friends greet our
vision, and we feel these have only gone little way
before. The dead-we would not willingly Danish
them from memory; we cherish the remembrance of
their virtues, their kindness and helpful words of
encouragement Here rests one whom we knew in
the years agone, an ornament to the profession of
are over and he sleeps well. As l muse here this
dreamy August twilight hour hear the signing of
the gentle breeze as it plays through the branches
of the old oaks, and whispers around the caves of
the little frame chapel; nov it dies softly away like
The tones of . whispered prayer, while anon the
comes slogly UP the sky. think while looking
this plat of resting place of those
gone to sleep for little whie-how foolish the tur-
moil the grasping and striving, tasking nerve and
brain both day and night for the things that perish
We havegrownw worldly, have made gold and fashion
gods, turned our hearts away from lowly things
and see not the beauty of the summer skies. o, we
need something in these aspiring days TO keep our
spirits owly, to set within hearts sweet and holy
thoughts. And yet plety remains, and shall remain
while these green and sunny churchyards hold the
dust of our beloved while tears are shed from foun-
iains which in the heart lie deep How sweet to
steal away in an hour like this and commune with
the SOUL II brings US nearer TO the majesty of the
over. Aye their memory shall live within u.s. like
tide it will continue to ebb and flow beneath all
the mists and clouds of darkness or doubt as long
as love kisses the lips of death. : . Here we
come to a stone marked 40 our mother Her child
rem rise up and call her blessed" Mother! Oh the
influence that word has upon us. Hast ever thought
how beautiful the three words, heaven home and
mother? Just here the zephyr In lutte like
zones, seemed to change IFS notes TO sweeter song
like the gladsome shout of the summer sea, seeming
TO say as IL tioated by The land-the land beyond
the sunset where there are no tears no parting no
more death; where the old grow young in those
realms Of brightness not far away. Just over there
the veil is very thin" Now we stumble over little
grave unmarked. Only little grave but doth ii
not hide much oflove and ofhope? Did not tn angels
stretch their hands down from the oceans OF ether
sky-the glory of Beulah's lands-and bear the little
sleeper away on snowy pinions from loving hearts
Then the clay was borne aYay from the ,desolate
earthly hope aAd bToGght hereand buried. Weeping
Phes tdrned from that grave saying baby Is deadS
But the LITTLE mariner went over the rippling tide
into the heavenly bay, and is resting where the
Jasper walls arise-within the haze that hides them
from our vision, Here rises alothershaf OF marble
But bark! the organs notes from the adjoining
grove hear-now the call for evening Service.
Rich waves of song are borne upon the hree7e in
that grand hymn OF praise
Jesus lover of my soul"
FhiTy Glen, Nd, AHqux Id fSSS