THE STOUY OE A BLADE OE GEASS. 88 
Over the field where human blood has flowed, and 
thousands have fallen in the fight for freedom, the grass 
waves as greenly as before; and where the martyrs 
sleep, it grows in rich luxuriance, to hide their blanched 
bones from the gazing of the world* They who sleep—* 
u Deep beneath the grass-grown soil, 
Far in the common field,” 
will awake no more to the sunshine of this world, but 
meet the reward of the justice or the injustice of their 
fight beyond the grassy shores of this. And so the 
world revolves ; and on the spot whereon armies have 
assembled, where emperors have achieved territory and 
martial glory, where crowns have, been lost and won, and 
thousands have sunk down unknelled to rise no more, 
the grass comes again with its refreshing verdure, glad¬ 
dening the husbandman with its assurances of plenty, 
cheering the heart by its spring light and whisperings of 
love, and surrounding the life of man with perfumed 
benedictions. These are the teachings of the grass, 
these the lessons of its verdurous beauty. It is alike 
the symbol of exuberance and the teacher of fate. In 
the wilderness it welcomes man to pitch his tent and 
become a peaceful sojourner; and, amid the ruins, it 
mocks him for his work: the city which he rears sinks 
into the dust, and— 
“ Desolation o’er the grass-grown street 
Expands her raven wings, and from the gate 
Where senates once the weal of nations plann’d 
Hisseth the slimy snake, through hoary weeds, 
That clasp the mouldering column.”* 
Akenside—“ Pleasures of Imagination, B. ii. ff 
