Canadian Wild Flowers by Helen M. (Helen Mar) Johnson
page 126 of 235 (53%)
page 126 of 235 (53%)
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That when the toils of this life were o'er
They all might embrace each other once more, Never, no never to part! One trembling hand to his brow he pressed, And the tears of contrition he shed; He implored for pardon, a home with the blest; Then he wrapped his cloak round his gory breast, And the warrior's spirit fled! ON SEEING A SKULL This morning while examining a skull strange emotions took possession of me--such as I never before experienced. That senseless skull had once been the seat of deep thought and powerful passions; beaming eyes once glistened brightly where now there was only a hollow space; that head was once proudly erected, and the form that supported it once mingled in the busy scenes of life. But now what a change! His very name is forgotten--himself but a handful of dust. O mortals! behold, and learn a lesson. His body has long since mouldered away and mingled with the parent earth,--this skull alone remains; and yet the time will surely come, and cannot be far distant, when "the bones shall come together--bone to his bone"; when the sinews and the flesh shall come upon them, the skin cover them, and the breath entering the body the dead shall live! Will this skull come forward at "the resurrection of the just," or ----? Oh, what an awful thought! My very blood runs |
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