all lay widely separated, and his dead boy (John) he knew not where.
To the request of his wife that she might be allowed to bury him in Richmond, where she herself expected to lie, he replied gently, "Very well, my dear; then let my body remain here until the spring, and when you take me through the Goshen Pass[1] you must pluck the rhododendrons and the mountain-ivy and lay them upon me."
His body lay in state in the library of the Institute, the breast covered with the various decorations he had received from Foreign Powers. Thence, on the following Wednesday (February 5th), after the burial service, read by the Rev. William N. Pendleton, D.D., it was borne to its temporary resting-place in the Gilham vault in the cemetery, immediately opposite the tomb of "Stonewall Jackson."
THROUGH THE PASS.
I.
"Home, bear me home, at last,: he said,
"And lay me where your dead are lying;
But not while skies are overspread,
And mournful wintry winds are sighing!
II.
"Wait till the royal march of Spring
Carpets the mountain fastness over—
Till chattering birds are on the wing,
And buzzing bees are in the clover.
- ↑ This is a far-famed lovely Pass, where the North Anna breaks through the mountains. Close along the bank of the river and under overhanging cliffs and boulders of granite, among which grow and climb great clusters of the above-named flowers in the wildest and most beautiful profusion, the stage-road winds its perilous way to the nearest station on the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad.
