Page:Scenes in my Native Land.pdf/114

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.