186 



THE FARMER'S MONTHLY VISITOR. 



From Hill's New Hampshire Patriot 

 LINES 

 Suggested bt heabino of the con 



"Pine Grove Cemetery," in F . 



'Tis*\vell ! It is the due, departed friends 

 May claim from those, who in life's pilgriraige 

 Were near and dear to them ; and e'en the name. 

 The sacred name, of friend, relation, claimed. 



When " parts the body from the soul," — 'tie true 



We drop the " scalding tear," and heave perhaps 



The " deep heart-rending sigh." With measured step 



And slow, we, with the funeral train move on, 



And to the grave, " the narrow home of man," 



Consign the last sad relics of our iriend ! 



But would we for a Iransienl moment think 



Oq all their love, their virtues, and their woes ? 



A season weep, and wear the sable signs 



Of grief; and then amidst the shiftiing light 



And shadow of our brief existence here, 



Forget the lesson which their death should teach ? 



Forget the example which their virtues gave 1 



Forget that death thinks not of place or pride ? 



That in a moment, and the time untold. 



We may like them be snatched from all earth's joys ; 



From all youth's views of future happiness ; 



From manhood's hope, — a •• good old age" to see j 



From hope that whitened locks of age express, 



"To live a little longer in the world" ? 



Or would we often think such thoughts as these. 



And learn a lesson for our future good ? 



i\nd what so well the important lesson teach, 



As oft to wander in the very place 



Where rest their ashes — 'neath the cold, damp sod ? 



And then, with fav'ring fancy's aid, 



Think that their parted spirits, ling'ring near. 



Arc watching us with looks of love ; that they 



A holy calm around the pl.acn suftuse. 



Full fraught with holy inlluence and good. 



'Tis well that we such spots should ornament, 

 And make them beautiful to look upon. 

 We then shall love at summer's su.iset hour 

 To rove within its cool retreat ; — and muse 

 Upon the subjects that *e place suggests. 



'Twill teach us all must die ! — for here we sec 

 The great, the good, the wise, the ignorant. 

 The wretch, the fortunate, the young, and old, 

 " All, all are here" ! One common fata they share '. 

 'Twill rob grim death of half his power to fright 

 With visions dire ; of worms that crawl around 

 The face e'en once by beauty's smile illumed ; — 

 The lovely form, from " Nature's tiiirest mould," 

 Returning to the dust from which 'twas made ; 

 To see the rose tree blooming o'er the spot. 

 Where rest the sad remains of those we love ! 



All must die 1 — or yet perhaps the sudden death 

 Of some dear friend, the painful lesson shows I 

 " The thought of death alone the fear destroys '." 



'Twill almost make us wish to die ! — to leave 

 These dreary scenes of trial and of woe. 

 And sweetly rest in such a spot as this ! 

 For here we see the tear drop from affection's eye, 

 Which, gently courfing down the mourner's cheek, 

 Falls on the Bowers by affection's care 

 Wreathed round the marble monument. Al^sl 

 Sad emblems of our frail i 



A grave within these precincts we discerji. 



That breaks the else unbroken ground. 



A SINGLE grave .' How lonely seems the sound I 



We half forget how sunder human ties. 



When gathered kindred round each other lie. 



But this grave seeins so very desolate, 



AVith no remembering stone — no fellow graves 



For sympathy : — 'tis utterly alone ! 



But is it so '.' Though single be its sod. 



Yet has it not lor this the less around, 



The presence of its Ood I 



When three score years 

 " Have knit m circling dance the rosy hours." ' 

 Then with me, gentle friend, (if death should spare 

 'r/}ee from his cold embrace) we through these shades 

 Will wander, and will mark the change that Death, 

 Sad conqueror ! has made within these walls ! 



Suppose that sixty years have now flown past ; 

 .\nd our dim eyes can scarce discern the scenes 

 Around which many a thought nf yniilhful sport. 

 And boyhood's plcntinrcs. t'vinn <1ir (coble limbs 



How clian-p.i th.- pl,„r ' \ sr:uolior build 



Upon the Ml,--; ;,n,l lin.s.. uhnimm its doo 

 Are ciming ii-n .— I M.n witli volumes larg 

 And still a ^riMtcr Inui (,t s,|,„;„t looks,— 

 Oh! how unlike tliose luvj „,if, who wit 

 Did call from learning's mine the gems ol t 

 Together sought each other's task to cheer 

 And dropt for others' woes the kindly tear. 

 But let us pass.— The grave-yani is not far. 

 The white enclosure just within the edge 

 Of that " Pine Grove," you see. Ah I hen 



We enter. Oh ! how beautiful and still 

 The place ! The breeze of evening through the t 

 \ solemn dirge to the departed spirits sounds. 

 The low, sweet murmur ol the distant '■ Falls," 

 Strikes gently on th' attentive ear, as if 

 'Twere fearful that it might disturb the rush 

 Of holy thousihts, as thick and fast they flit 



Acr 





And can it be, that once 

 This " city of the dead" had but a single grave ? 

 .\!as, too true ! Now, oil the marble white 

 Doth rear its sculptured front, — and tell the tale 

 That living lips no more can speak. But pause ! 

 And let us read the names recorded here. 

 Perchance we may observe some name, that once 

 We knew : — perhaps a friend's, associate's, find ! 

 If not, the lesson will not all be lost. 



Here, 'neath the green and flowery turf, lies one 



Who scarce had o'er life's fairy threshold stepped. 



Her tiny foot had never made an impress on 



Life's thorny road. What could have lured her hoiice 7 



No sickening sights of sorrow had she seen, 



Nor felt the pangs that conscious guilt doth bring. 



It must liave been an angel's whisper, breathed 



Upon her ear, that told of joys supreme 



Enjoyed by those who walk Heaven's golden streets. 



'Tis 'well with her 1 The clouds that day by day 



Would o'er her spirit pass ; life's trials, woes, 



.\nd bitter disappointments too — all these 



She has escaped ; and in the bosom of her God 



" Free from all care, from sorrow free," will spend 



The endless ages of eternity ! 



; the root of that tall pine, 

 whose long and slender trunk 

 w, lies one who letl the world 



There, 

 The Shi 

 Falls n< 



When life seemed opening brightly to his gaze, 

 A class-mate, dear, was he in yonder hall. 

 And we've together climbed the rugged mount 

 .\nd slaked from learning's source our fev'rish thirst ; 

 Together wandered through Arcadian glades. 

 Or sought, near cool Hesperian shades, repose. 

 But though no more return those halcyon hours, 

 They stdl are cherished in the heart's lone urn ! 

 Peace to thy ashes, friend ! .\nd though thy brow 

 Once showed to all th' intelligence within. — 

 And wit and wisdom from thy young lips flowed. 

 Death claimed thee for his own ! How sad to think 

 Thy lifeless form in earth's embracing mould. 



Here rests our teacher ! Who long years ago 

 Taught our young minds to spread their tiny wings 

 .\nd then with Newton tread the star-pavrd sky ; 

 To con with studious care the classic page. 

 .\nd learu ol scenes which Latin bards have sung. 

 He through the thorny paths of knowledge led. 

 And o'er our way the flowers of wisdom strewed. 

 He souiht t' arouse the energies of soul. 



How arduous his task, — to guide the mind 

 Through learning's mazy windings, and in part 



The parent's kind, correcting hand supply. 



And yet how well performed ! But though his care 



His pupils here on earth might ne'er repay. 



To him the Teacher's meed was long since given. 



That recompense bestowed nlone by Heaven ! 



In that green nook, and 'neath the willows' shade, * 



Whose pensile branches far around are flung, 



.\ maiden sleeps ! If it be sad to mark 



The bow'd with age, decrepit and infirm. 



Closing the changes in life's pilgrimage, 



1m the still darkness of the mouldering tomb, 



Oh, what a shadow o'er the heart is thrown 



When peals the requiem of the loved and young ! 



They to whose bosoms, like the dawn of spring 



To scented rose and the unfolding bud, 



Comes the pure freshness age can never know. 



Yet this is life I To mark from day to day, 



How youth and beauty in its morning prime 



Pass, like the " gently whispering breeze." away. 



Fair reader ! — thou on whom the cares of life. 



Its trials, dis.-ippointmeiits never pressed ; 



Though bright thy laughing eye, and light thy buoyant 



step, 

 .\nd thy young heart doth scarcely dream of death. 

 Pause ! poniler ! ere yet dark years, on thy warm cheek, 

 Have shed autumnal shadows. Drop a tear 

 For her who once was like thee. Be thou taught, 

 And then with • ■ •■ 



joy thou'lt gaze UiTOu the sky, 

 IhrougM wnose far depths the spirit's wing careers. 

 " There, gleams eternal o'er their ways arc flung. 

 Who fade from earth, while yet their years arc your 



Upon that marble urn, which marks a grave 



Of bi:n, who, as the liniirs oV t!iat hallowed day. 



B shepherd of the little flock, 



•m in the holy house of God ; 



e pulpit, (what though strange its fo 



h it rnckeil. at every motion made 



lined between its narrow sides !) 



the i 



ig spiri 



Designed to lead the w 

 He pointed sinners to t 

 That to heaven's golden portaU leads aright. 

 Supports their stumbling steps, encouraging. 

 Corrects the wandering of his flock, inflames 

 With holy zeal the lukewarm, and the holy cheers, 

 lie sweetened, too, afliiction's bitter draught, 

 .Vnd poured the healing balm upon the wounds 

 Death's arrows gave. I hoard his solemn voice 



As in the house of mourning it was raised, 



An offering pure to heaven. Oh, solemn hour, 



Which called upon a father to return 



The body of an only daughter dear. 



Unto " the dust from which 'twas made." Sad thought ! 



BlU her pure spirit, washed from earthly strains, 



Fled gladly, carried in an angel's arms. 



Unto the bosom of her God ! 



Why was she taken from our midst ? There are 



In heaven, whither her pure spirit fled. 



Angels enough, and earth has full too few ! 



U'%, do we ask 7 God willed it ! and his will be 



down, among his iriends. to die. 

 The grave to him was sweet — a refuge, where 

 " The wicked cease from troubling, and the weary rest.' 



But let us pass, and homeward bend our steps 

 For twilight comes. The beams of setting su 

 Have laved in gold the hill-tops of the west, 

 .\nd fling the decp'ning shadows o'er these 

 The bird's sweet carol now is hushed.— All 





The robin's melancholy evening note j 

 Or yet, perhaps, the whippoorwill poui 



forth 



I yonder shade her 



And 1 



I with the change ill satisfied, 



The whiten'd locks of age, and wrinkles too. 

 For our own flesh of youth's most healthy hue. 

 Oh, may we learn the moral of the verse, 

 (Howe'er uncouth its hobbling measures are) 

 That when Death's summons may to us be given, 

 Whatever hour, or mo.nent they may come. 

 With holy hope and joy we then may say, 

 Welcome thou King of Terrors ! — Welcome Death ! 

 And welcome Heaven too — 1 am prepared ro ui 

 * A. : 

 Concord, Nov. 1841. 



New Hampshire defended. 



Mr. Arnold of Tennessee, in a late speech in 

 the House of Rcpreseutiilives of Congress, de- 

 clared that "he never could think ol New Hamp- 

 shire without thinking of black, chilly rocks, of 

 the screeching owl and the prowling wolf. What 

 (he asked) was Now Hainpsiiiie ? A most barren 

 and sterile piece of earth. Was she advancing 

 in popidation ? He helieved not. She was the 

 only State in the Union that had taken n retro- 

 gade movement ; or, at least, she advanced in 

 population less than any other State." 



Mr. Arnold is under a mistake in more than 

 one point in relation to the Granite State. Al- 

 though her territory is farther removed to the 

 North and is more mountainous and wild than 

 any of the middle and southern Atlantic States, 

 she has taken no retrogade movement either in 

 Agriculture or in manufacturing industry. She 

 has earned many hundred thousand dollars which 

 have been carried away to aid in the wealth and 

 population of otherstalesof the South and West; 

 and still with a constant drain of her population 

 and property the state never jiossessed as much 

 wealth and as many inhabitants as it will ])0sses9 

 at the commencement of the year o( our Lord 

 eighteen hundred and forty-two. 



We know that New Hampshii-e asau Aricultit- 

 ral State will not compare disadvantageously 

 with Eastern Teunesee, and especially with that 

 part of Tennessee represented by the gentleman. 

 In lonff and interesting conversations with the 

 late Judge White of ffie Senate of the United 

 States, the Editor of the V'^isilor gained the im- 

 pression that the community of tanner.? in the 

 vicinity of Knoxville, especially those who carri- 

 ed on farming operations by means of slave labor, 

 were in a much worse condition of barrenness 

 and sterility than the [loorest of the poor farmers 

 of New Hampshire. In the Granite State there 

 is not the farmer or day-laborer so poor and des- 

 titute that when in health he cannot earn a livell- 

 hood,and for whose children abundant provision is 

 not made to give them an education such as shall 

 quality them for the pursuit of any reputable and 

 useful callin;r. Look at the late cen.su.s and learn 

 how few of the natives of this state are unable to 

 read and write : look how few are the instances 

 of suffering from hunger or nakedness in an in- 

 clement climate and upon this " most barren and 

 sterile piece of earth." We know there is much 

 less of the miseries of want, of ignorance, of in- 

 temperance and of their conseqttent vices in this 

 State than there is in the middle and southern 

 States of the Union. 



Our sterile niountains are not so had after all, 

 as the followiiiff statement will show: Capt. Sam- 

 uel Blake of tliis town pinchased a lot of about ' 

 one hundred acres far up the side of Kcarsarire 



