Madeline With other poems and parables: By Thomas Gordon Hake |
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LXII. | LXII.
ON THE CHURCHYARD. |
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![]() | Madeline | ![]() |
278
LXII. ON THE CHURCHYARD.
Old dormitory, last of parish bounds,
How men come sleeping here, with shutters closed,
To add a remnant to the other mounds,
Those cast-up sums, in line on line disposed.
How men come sleeping here, with shutters closed,
To add a remnant to the other mounds,
Those cast-up sums, in line on line disposed.
On happy Sunday when the moving crowd,
To show thee flush of life, turns out of church,
Who but amid the old discerns a shroud,
As if the maw of death had made a lurch?
To show thee flush of life, turns out of church,
Who but amid the old discerns a shroud,
As if the maw of death had made a lurch?
Wondrous thy threshold they can dare to cross,
Mined as it is, and into tunnels scraped;
Its every quake to human life a loss,
Its every step a spot where it has gaped.
Mined as it is, and into tunnels scraped;
Its every quake to human life a loss,
Its every step a spot where it has gaped.
Yet, such the confidence that use begets,
Men set their dwellings on volcanic soil,
Nor once a thought of death or danger frets,
Oft as the flames below their pyre uncoil.
Men set their dwellings on volcanic soil,
Nor once a thought of death or danger frets,
Oft as the flames below their pyre uncoil.
279
If there prevails in men a wholesome dread
To walk, however lightly, on the grave,
Lest it disturb the slumbers of the dead;
Far worse a danger to themselves why brave?
To walk, however lightly, on the grave,
Lest it disturb the slumbers of the dead;
Far worse a danger to themselves why brave?
Why fail they to recal that every place
Is mined by busy worms at work beneath?
Though they be safe at the volcano's base,
Let all who tread the churchyard count on death.
Is mined by busy worms at work beneath?
Though they be safe at the volcano's base,
Let all who tread the churchyard count on death.
![]() | Madeline | ![]() |