My Epitaph.
BBelow lies one whose name was traced in sand.He died, not knowing what it was to live:Died, while the first sweet consciousness of manhoodAnd maiden thought electrified his soul,Faint beatings in the calyx of the rose.Bewildered reader! pass without a sigh,In a proud sorrow! There is life with God,In other kingdom of a sweeter air;In Eden every flower is blown:Amen.DAVID GRAY.September 27, 1861.
BBelow lies one whose name was traced in sand.He died, not knowing what it was to live:Died, while the first sweet consciousness of manhoodAnd maiden thought electrified his soul,Faint beatings in the calyx of the rose.Bewildered reader! pass without a sigh,In a proud sorrow! There is life with God,In other kingdom of a sweeter air;In Eden every flower is blown:Amen.DAVID GRAY.September 27, 1861.
BBelow lies one whose name was traced in sand.He died, not knowing what it was to live:Died, while the first sweet consciousness of manhoodAnd maiden thought electrified his soul,Faint beatings in the calyx of the rose.Bewildered reader! pass without a sigh,In a proud sorrow! There is life with God,In other kingdom of a sweeter air;In Eden every flower is blown:Amen.
B
DAVID GRAY.September 27, 1861.