Classic Poem

A churchyard walk, and by the way
We saw on either hand
More symbols of the world's " decay "
Than of the " better land " !

With more of rigid carpentry,
And less of bloom and leaf,
Than tokened brotherhood in death
Or fellowship in grief.

And yet, without these mouldering pales
'Twere easy to o'erspread
With Eden grace these silent vales,
This city of the dead.

Without this mass of tangled brier
Yon oak were not less green;
And happily yon heavenward spire
Were more distinctly seen!

The " vexed Bermuda " here might rest
In undisturbed retreat,
On many a long-forgotten breast
And long-neglected street.

The dead white column, cross and urn
With olive shadowed o'er,
Might teach us, when we come to mourn,
This much, if nothing more:

That vainly o'er our lost delights
The pomp of marble towers
Without the gentle care that writes
Its Martha-thought in flowers.