OCR Text |
Show EQUAL TO THE CRAVE. Croesus is dead ; remove his rt b ) And strip him of the gold; The reaper grim has come for him, His form is still and cold. The crimson Stream has ceased to flow, The haughty head Is lying low, He's done wTh wordly pnmp and show, Here rests his pulseless mold. . Upon yon bhr a p vup r Ilea, , His soul has taneariliht; Hi senseless clay wears no display Ah 'tis a sorry sight. His unsuccessful course is run, . ' With tribulation he is done, , . His pert tct r at is 1 ust bagun ' The rest of death's lonj night. '' Lar this one In his ma-ble tomb i , And you one in the ground; , Oa'r this a stately aliatt npte ir, O'er that a simple mrn id. But which shall sleep t ie sweetest slesp Which first shall breik the sllenoi deep? Ah I they are equals In Death's keep, Till G.ibrlel'B trump shall sound. Frank B. Welch. |