Unnumbered Graves

Yon hlllslde, with its slmfts of gleaniíiig whito Bathed in the glory of the eettlug sun, Holds many a gravo where, hidden from our eight. Borne loved one slcepp, life'B toil and labor done. But there are graves over whose elumbering niold Nopoliohed marble rears ite stately bead, And where no f ragrant flowers above uníold To waken pity for the quiet dead. These are the graves deep down witbiu our hearts, Where lie the hopea and di-oams of early years, Buried from eight, but signaled by euch marks As only can be niade by bloot, and tears - Some early love that crowned us ín otir youth, And made life glorious for a short sweet hour- Some cherished promise, robbed of etrength an' truth, Crushed in the moriting of its new-born power. Hero íh the spot where memory has engraved The foriu and face of one we ealled a friend, One for whose welfare we would e'en have brav=d Censure and heartiiche to the bitter end. But 'twas not wisely done, and eo we draw Before the treaehery of the smiling eyea A heavy veil. The cold world, if it saw, Would proffer pity in a thouEand lies. 3o life goes on. "SVe lay the forma away Of thmgB we loved not wisely, but too well, And in the lapse of years we learn to stay The fretful chaoting of their funeral knell. We learn to smile. before the ruiling throng, Although the adder s fangfl be deeply set ; And join, perhaps, our voices in the song, To soothe the pain we never can forget. And thus we learn to envy the calm rest Of thoee who sleep beneath the süent sod. Bound with lif e's galiíng chains, we know 'tis best To bend our headB and paBS beneath the rod. And when we see sonie mourners heavy ciad In robes of black, haggard,with tear-dinimed eye, We know their lïves would be more bright and glad Could they but reason - it is life to die. Mourn not the slumbering dead, but rather say, Biest ars the sleepers. Years may come and go ; Jeads that are brown and gold may turn to gray ; Bilt they are done with earth and tears and woe. Somewhere, we know, beyond the world of stars, They will at last have fotmd eweet Ithe's Btream ; 3ome time we'Il meet them at God's judgment bar, Where life is love, and love one long true dream.