66
Poems.
Upon their hearts, bring forth a rich and an
Abundant harvest: "some thirty, sixty,
And an hundred fold."
Abundant harvest: "some thirty, sixty,
And an hundred fold."
THE GRAVE.
Sad, lonely and chill is the silent grave
And dark is the lonely tomb;
The tall grass around doth mournfully wave,
And wild flowers neglectedly bloom.
And dark is the lonely tomb;
The tall grass around doth mournfully wave,
And wild flowers neglectedly bloom.
The turf may be fresh, and perfumed the air,
The flowers in rich colors be drest,
But what recks it all, to the form that lies there,
'Neath the green sward, calmly at rest.
The flowers in rich colors be drest,
But what recks it all, to the form that lies there,
'Neath the green sward, calmly at rest.
He hath acted his part on the world's wide stage,
He hath tasted affliction's stream;
His name is engraved on adversity's page,
For dark was his life's short dream.
He hath tasted affliction's stream;
His name is engraved on adversity's page,
For dark was his life's short dream.
Though sad disappointment had marked his way,
And full was his cup of sorrow,
Yet, he peacefully rests where thousands lay,
To "wake not again on the morrow."
And full was his cup of sorrow,
Yet, he peacefully rests where thousands lay,
To "wake not again on the morrow."
