Symud i'r prif gynnwys
Cuddio Rhestr Erthyglau

5 erthygl ar y dudalen hon

IN THE CHURCHYARD AT CAMBRIDGE.

Newyddion
Dyfynnu
Rhannu

IN THE CHURCHYARD AT CAMBRIDGE. In the village churchyard she lies, Dust is in her beautiful eyes, No more she breathes, nor feels, nor stirs At her feet and at her head Lies a slave to attend the dead. But their dust is white as hers. Was she a lady of high degree, So much in the love with the vanity And foolish pouip of this world of ours Or was it Chiistian charity, J\nd lowliness and humility, The richest and rarest of all dowers ? Who shall tell us ? No one speaks No colour shoots iuto those checks, Either of anger or of pride, At the rude question we have asked Nor will the mystery be unmasked By those who are sleeping at her side. Hereafter ?-And do you think to look On the terrible pages of that Book To find her failings fault and errors Ab, you will then have other cares, In your own shortcomings and despairs, In your own secret sins and terrors I HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. r

SONG TO HOPE.

VARIETIES.

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