Page:Scenes in my Native Land.pdf/114

110

Beside the church-yard gate they paused, And woke an anthem's thrill, While flutes and clarions mingled soft With music's perfect skill.

Methought it tenderly implored, Though not a word was said, Room for another guest to swell The assembly of the dead.

Then through the unclosing gate they passed, And up the hillock wound, Where peaceful slept their kindred clay In consecrated ground.

Nor weed, nor straw, nor mouldering leaf Defaced their sacred bed, But tireless care, the chosen spot With Nature's beauty spread.

Rich evergreens, and willows fair In graceful ranks had grown, And thickly planted flowerets clasped Each horizontal stone.

And then the reverent Pastor read, As mid the graves he trod. In the deep German's solemn lore, Words from the Book of God.