GRAVES OF THE POOR. 253
graves, have occasionally an inscription, touching from its simplicity. One commemorates
" Pauvre Marie ! A 29 ans."
The truth of the pathetic sentiment of the Bard of the " Country Church Yard,"
" For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing, anxious being e er resigned ? "
is illustrated by many simple plants, little borders of box, and similar fragile decorations of the temporary graves of the humble dead.
��I stood amid the dwellings of the dead
And saw the gayest city of the earth
Spread out beneath me. Cloud and sunlight lay
Upon her palaces and gilded domes,
In slumbrous beauty. Through the streets flowed on,
In ceaseless stream, gay equipage and throng,
As fashion led the way. Look up ! look up !
Mont Louis hath a beacon. Wheresoe er
Ye seem to tend, so lightly dancing on
In your enchanted maze, a secret spell
Is on your footsteps, and unseen they haste
Where ye would not, and whence ye ne er return.
Blind pilgrims are we all ! We close our eyes
On the swift torrent that o erwhelms our race,
And in our spanlike path the goal forget,
�� �
