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Of all
The fools who flock'd to swell or see the show
Who car'd about the corpse? read more
Of all
The fools who flock'd to swell or see the show
Who car'd about the corpse? The funeral
Made the attraction, and the black the woe;
There throbb'd not there a thought which pierc'd the pall.
Alas, poor Tom! how oft, with merry heart,
Have we beheld thee play the Sexton's part;
Each read more
Alas, poor Tom! how oft, with merry heart,
Have we beheld thee play the Sexton's part;
Each comic heart must now be grieved to see
The Sexton's dreary part performed on thee.
I gazed upon the glorious sky
And the green mountains round,
And thought that when I came read more
I gazed upon the glorious sky
And the green mountains round,
And thought that when I came to lie
At rest within the ground,
'Twere pleasant, that in flowery June
When brooks send up a cheerful tune,
And groves a joyous sound,
The sexton's hand, my grave to make,
The rich, green mountain-turf should break.
Build me a shrine, and I could kneel
To rural Gods, or prostrate fall;
Did I not read more
Build me a shrine, and I could kneel
To rural Gods, or prostrate fall;
Did I not see, did I not feel.
That One Great Spirit governs all.
O Heaven, permit that I may lie
Where o'er my corse green branches wave;
And those who from life's tumults fly
With kindred feelings press my grave.
O how small a portion of earth will hold us when we are dead, who ambitiously seek after the whole read more
O how small a portion of earth will hold us when we are dead, who ambitiously seek after the whole world while we are living.
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.
We weep over the graves of infants and the little ones taken from us by death; but an early grave read more
We weep over the graves of infants and the little ones taken from us by death; but an early grave may be the shortest way to heaven.
He that unburied lies wants not his hearse,
For unto him a tomb's the Universe.
He that unburied lies wants not his hearse,
For unto him a tomb's the Universe.
