Poems (Charlotte Allen)/Reflections in a Grave Yard
REFLECTIONS IN A GRAVE-YARD.
Again, upon this sacred place,
I 've wandered forth alone,
And mused o'er many a little mound,
The grave hath claimed its own.
I 've wandered forth alone,
And mused o'er many a little mound,
The grave hath claimed its own.
Here rest the gifted and the loved,
From care and sorrow free,
Their brief day-dream of life is o'er,
Their conqueror, Death, is thee.
From care and sorrow free,
Their brief day-dream of life is o'er,
Their conqueror, Death, is thee.
Some new raised stones attract my eye,
And breathe the saddened tale,
Of youth and virtue buried here,
Of beauty's cheek, now pale.
And breathe the saddened tale,
Of youth and virtue buried here,
Of beauty's cheek, now pale.
Fond hearts have mourned their early call,
Bright eyes have wept the doom
Of those they loved so fervently,
Thus hastened to the tomb.
Bright eyes have wept the doom
Of those they loved so fervently,
Thus hastened to the tomb.
Impartial archer! Death! art thou
Unerring is thy aim
The old and young, the grave and gay,
To thee, are all the same.
Unerring is thy aim
The old and young, the grave and gay,
To thee, are all the same.
None, none can tell thy arrow's course,
Unswerving from their line;
They onward speed their unseen flight,
And the victor's wreath is thine.
Unswerving from their line;
They onward speed their unseen flight,
And the victor's wreath is thine.