The Argosy — page 338: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

320 GRAVES. BENEATH the radiance shed From minster’s storied fane They sleep, the dead, whose steps no more m1iy tread The earth’s blue hills again : Or in still churchyards, where the grey clouds pass Above the daisied grass. They rest amid the green And sylvan solitude Of forests lone, the waving trees between. » Each sunny land is strewed. With silent mounds, which wandering airs caress, On rock and wildemess. Their shadows lie across These changing lives of ours, And some grey headstone, yellowed o’er with moss, Rises amid our flowers ; While oft the sunlight falls, the violet waves, Over forgotten graves. There on sweet sunset eves, The wild-bird chants its lay Above their rest ; the poplar’s silvery leaves In winds of twilight play ; And the blue forget-me-nots their starry eyes Lift to the summer skies. Yet, though o’er each calm spot The mourner’s sigh is mute: Although the low, untended mounds are sought By no familiar foot : Where God’s beloved sleep, His peace around Maketh it holy ground. JIL. (CO) in JOO SS (CO) in —_)