Whose fragrance lives in many lands,
Whose beauty stars the earth,
And lights the hearths of happy homes
With loveliness and worth!
We thought they slept! the sons who kept
The names of noble sires,
And slumbered, while the darkness crept
Around their vigil fires!
But aye! the " Golden Horse-shoe " Knights
Their Old Dominion keep,
Whose foes have found enchanted ground
But not a knight asleep.
UNKNOWN
The prints of feet are worn away, No more the mourners come; The voice of wail is mute to-day As his whose life is dumb. The world is bright with other bloom; Shall the sweet summer shed Its living radiance o er the tomb That shrouds the doubly dead? Unknown! Beneath our Father s face The starlit hillocks lie; Another rosebud! lest His grace Forget us when we die.
