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that the pastor's homily turned upon,-
- is full, in its essence, of edification.
- [Looks down upon the grave.]
- Was it he, I wonder, that hacked through his knuckle
- that day I was out hewing logs in the forest?
- Who knows? If I weren't standing here with my staff
- by the side of the grave of this kinsman in spirit,
- I could almost believe it was I that slept,
- and heard in a vision my panegyric.-
- It's a seemly and Christianlike custom indeed
- this casting a so-called memorial glance
- in charity over the life that is ended.
- I shouldn't at all mind accepting my verdict
- at the hands of this excellent parish priest.
- Ah well, I dare say I have some time left
- ere the gravedigger comes to invite me to stay with him;-
- and as Scripture has it: What's best is best,-
- and: Enough for the day is the evil thereof,-
- and further: Discount not thy funeral.-
- Ah, the church, after all, is the true consoler.
- I've hitherto scarcely appreciated it;-
- but now I feel clearly how blessed it is
- to be well assured upon sound authority:
- Even as thou sowest thou shalt one day reap.-
- One must be oneself; for oneself and one's own
- one must do one's best, both in great and in small things.
- If the luck goes against you, at least you've the honour
- of a life carried through in accordance with principle.-