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.

I was able to go to Iraq.. to the place my son died..
and fill my promise to my wife read more

I was able to go to Iraq.. to the place my son died..
and fill my promise to my wife to put a crucifix on
the spot.. and bring home some of the blood
drenched dirt..and plant a white rose bush in it
Military Families Speak Out.. broadcast on C Span.

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.

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.

Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down;
Where a green grassy turf is all I crave,
read more

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.

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.

The grave's the market place.

The grave's the market place.