By Nebo's lonely mountain,
On this side Jordan's wave,
In a vale in the land of Moab,
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By Nebo's lonely mountain,
On this side Jordan's wave,
In a vale in the land of Moab,
There lies a lonely grave;
But no man built that sepulcher,
And no man saw it e'er,
For the angels of God upturned the sod
And laid the dead man there.

The grave's the market place.

The grave's the market place.

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.

Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down;
Where a green grassy turf is all I crave,
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Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down;
Where a green grassy turf is all I crave,
With here and there a violet bestrown,
Fast by a brook or fountain's murmuring wave;
And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave.

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.

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.

The only difference between a rut and a grave is their dimensions.

The only difference between a rut and a grave is their dimensions.

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
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The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike th' inevitable hour,
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

Here's an acre sown indeed,
With the richest royalest seed.

Here's an acre sown indeed,
With the richest royalest seed.