Written In The Danville (KY.) Cemetery.
Within thy hallowed precincts on this sweet autumnal day,
We're wandering 'neath the cedar and the pine,
Where rests the sacred dust of loved ones passed away,
And bleeding hearts a melancholy pleasure find.
In memory's faithful mirror here once more we trace
Familiar forms of those in life we knew,
And see again the shadowy outlines of some face
That, living, beamed with kindness--ever true.
Old age, and manhood's prime, and helpless infancy
Have dotted o'er with many an emerald mound,
And marked each stone with mournful tracery
Which stands within this consecrated ground.
And there the marble shaft its stately head
In polished whiteness pointing to the sky,
And here the modest tribute to the lowly dead--
The silent monitors that tell us all must die.
Here lavish Nature her bright smile imparts
And decks with lovely flowers in early Spring,
And here the sympathetic tear unbidden starts,
And loving hands their sweetest tributes bring.
Loved spot! A solace to the living 'tis to know
That when at last--life's fitful fever o'er--
The cortege sad, with solemn step and slow,
Shall bear us here, to rest forever more,--
'Till that bright day when ransomed spirits rise,
And loved and lost shall reunited be,
To dwell in realms beyond the star-lit skies
Throughout one circling, vast eternity!