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.

Gravestones tell truth scarce forty years.

Gravestones tell truth scarce forty years.

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.

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.

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.

He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.

He spake well who said that graves are the footprints of angels.

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
read more

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.

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.