The national jubilee, and other miscellaneous poems ::

The balmy breeze of summer play'd
Its vesper hymns to Sabbath even,
When on the Elkhorn banks I stray'd,
To gaze the sitting sun of heaven.

I stood and saw him languish, slow,
Like beauty fading o'er the tomb—
It touch'd my soul with sacred wo,
That deepen'd with the twilight gloom.

I turn'd to seek the haunts of men,
To ease the burden of my breast—
But scarce I'd pass'd the deep wood, when
I found I'd gain'd the Hill of Rest —

Where that the warrior and the sage—
The priest, the bridegroom, and the bride—
The infant new with life—and age,
Slumber'd in silence side by side.

But two green turfs of oval turn,
Drew my attention from the rest—
That caus'd a mother's heart to mourn.
And prob'd severe a father's breast.

A daisy bloom upon the one,
With petals pure as mountain snows;
The other, cherish'd by the sun,
Supported sweet an opening rose.

“Ah! Sarah, this is thine,” I cried.
For thou wert once, a budding flower—

Thy parents' solace and their pride,
But death surpris'd thee in an hour!

The daisy blooms on Edwin's breast,
For he was spotless as its leaf:—
Sleep on sweet babe! in pillow'd rest,
For thou ne'er felt the sting of grief.

The Grave-Yard at the Great Crossing, Ky.

University of Virginia Library