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And he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against
Bethpeor: but no man knoweth read more
And he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against
Bethpeor: but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day.
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there.
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; legions of angels can't confine me there.
Perhaps the early grave
Which men weep over may be meant to save.
Perhaps the early grave
Which men weep over may be meant to save.
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.
Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious read more
Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood,
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.
The grave is still the best shelter against the storms of destiny.
The grave is still the best shelter against the storms of destiny.
The solitary, silent, solemn scene,
Where Caesars, heroes, peasants, hermits lie,
Blended in dust together; where the read more
The solitary, silent, solemn scene,
Where Caesars, heroes, peasants, hermits lie,
Blended in dust together; where the slave
Rests from his labors; where th' insulting proud
Resigns his powers; the miser drops his hoard:
Where human folly sleeps.
What's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod
Its Maker mean'd not should be trod
By man, the read more
What's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod
Its Maker mean'd not should be trod
By man, the image of his God,
Erect and free,
Unscourged by Superstition's rod.