Chaste Monumental Marbles, On Which Can Be Detected The Chisel
Of English, Scotch And Canadian Artists, Are At Present Noticeable
All
over the grounds, tastefully laid out and smiling parterres of annuals
and perennials throw a grateful fragrance over the
Tomb where sleeps
mayhap a beloved parent, a kind sister, an affectionate brother, a true
friend, a faithful lover. How forcibly all this was brought to our minds
recently on strolling through the shady walks of Mount Hermon. Under the
umbrageous trees, perfumed by roses and lilies, tombs, [239] silent,
innumerable tombs on all sides, on marble, the names of friends, kindred,
acquaintances, solemn stillness all round us, at our feet the placid
course of our majestic flood. There were indeed many friends round us,
though invisible, nay, on counting over the slumberers, we found we had
more, though not dearer friends, in this abode of peace than within the
walls of yonder city. Overpowered by mournful, though soothing thoughts,
we walked along pondering over those truthful reflections of Washington
Irving: -
"There is a voice from the tomb sweeter than song, there is a
recollection of the dead to which we turn ever from the charms of the
living Oh, the grave! the grave! It buries every error, covers every
defect, extinguishes every resentment. From its peaceful bosom spring
none but fond regrets and tender recollections. * * * The grave of
those we loved - what a place for meditation. There it is that we call
up in long review the whole history of virtue and gentleness, and the
thousand endearments lavished upon us almost unheeded in the daily
intercourse of intimacy; there it is that we dwell upon the
tenderness, the solemn, awful tenderness of the parting scene; the bed
of death with all its stifled grief; its noiseless attendants; its
mute, watchful assiduities; the last testimonies of expiring love; the
feeble, faltering, thrilling (oh, how thrilling!) pressure of the
hand; the last fond look of the glazing eye, turning upon us from the
threshold of existence; the faint, faltering accents struggling in
death to give once more assurance of affection!
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