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The grave's the market place.
The grave's the market place.
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.
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, dread thing!
Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled,
Shakes off her wonted firmness.
The grave, dread thing!
Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled,
Shakes off her wonted firmness.
See yonder maker of the dead man's bed,
The sexton, hoary-headed chronicle,
Of hard, unmeaning face, down read more
See yonder maker of the dead man's bed,
The sexton, hoary-headed chronicle,
Of hard, unmeaning face, down which ne'er stole
A gentle tear.
I would rather sleep in the southern corner of a little country
churchyard, than in the tombs of the read more
I would rather sleep in the southern corner of a little country
churchyard, than in the tombs of the Capulets.
For I know that thou wilt bring me to death, and to the house
appointed for all living.
For I know that thou wilt bring me to death, and to the house
appointed for all 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.