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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Our Mountain Cemetery</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lonely and silent and calm it lies<br>’Neath rosy dawn or midnight skies;<br>So densely peopled, yet so still,<br>The murmuring voice of mountain rill,<br>The plaint the wind ’mid branches wakes,<br>Alone the solemn silence breaks. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whatever changes the seasons bring,—<br>The birds, the buds of joyous spring,<br>The glories that come with the falling year<br>The snows and storms of winter drear,—<br>Are all unmarked in this lone spot,<br>Its shrouded inmates feel them not. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thoughts full of import, earnest and deep,<br>Must the feeling heart in their spirit steep,<br>Here, where Death’s footprints meet the sight:<br>The long chill rows of tombstones white,<br>The graves so thickly, widely spread,<br>Within this city of the Dead. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Say, who could tell what aching sighs,<br>What tears from heavy, grief-dimmed eyes,<br>Have here been shed in silent woe,<br>Mourning the cold, still form below;<br>Or o’er past harshness, coldness, hate,<br>Grieving, alas! too late—too late! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, man, vain dreamer of this life,<br>Seeking ’mid restless toil and strife<br>For wealth, for happiness, for fame,<br>Thirsting to make thyself a name,<br>See, unto what thy course doth tend,<br>Of all thy toils—there is the end. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Woman, of grace or beauty proud,<br>Seeking alone gay fashion’s crowd,—<br>Thine aim, admiring looks to win,<br>E’en at the price of folly or sin,<br>That beauty now to thee so dear,<br>Would’st thou know its fate? <br>Look around thee, here. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But not alone such lessons stern<br>May we within the grave-yard learn:<br>’Tis here the servant wise and good,<br>Who loyal to his trust hath stood,<br>Will joyously at length lay down<br>The heavy cross to receive the crown. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And hope, sweet messenger of God,<br>Poised lightly ’bove the charnel sod,<br>With upturned brow and radiant eyes,<br>Pointing unto the distant skies,<br>Whispers: “Oh, weary child of care,<br>Look up! thy heavenly home is there!”</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Rosanna+Eleanor+Leprohon">Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509972" data-title="Our Mountain Cemetery de Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon" data-description="Lonely and silent and calm it lies
’Neath rosy dawn or midnight skies;
So densely peopled, yet so still,
The murmuring voice of mountain rill,
The plaint the wind ’mid branches wakes,
Alone the solemn silence breaks. 

Whatever changes the sea..."></div>
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