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C.N. Douglas, comp.  Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical.  1917.
 
Churchyard
 
        There lay the warrior and the son of song,
  And there—in silence till the judgment day—
The orator, whose all-persuading tongue
  Had mov’d the nations with resistless sway.
Mrs. Norton.    
  1
        Strange things, the neighbours say, have happen’d there:
Wild shrieks have issued from the hollow tombs,
Dead men have come again, and walk’d about;
And the great bell has toll’d unrung, untouch’d.
Such tales their cheer at wake or gossiping,
When it draws near to ’witching time of night.
Blair.    
  2
        Yet there are graves, whose rudely shapen sod
Bears the fresh footprints where the sexton trod;
Graves where the verdure has not dar’d to shoot,
Where the chance wildflower has not fix’d its root,
Whose slumbering tenants, dead without a name,
The eternal record shall at length proclaim
Pure as the holiest in the long array
Of hooded, mitred, or tiara’d clay!
O. W. Holmes.    
  3
        The solitary, silent, solemn scene,
Where Cæsars, heroes, peasants, hermits lie,
Blended in dust together; where the slave
Rests from his labors; where th’ insulting proud
Resigns his power, the miser drops his hoard,
Where human folly sleeps.
Dyer.    
  4
 
 
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