Show OH WHY SHOULD THE SPIRIT OF MORTAL HE BE PROUD oh why should the spirit ol of mortal be proud like a swift fleeting meteor a fatt flying cloud A flash ot of the lightning a break 0 of the wave man passes from life to his rest in the grave the leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade be scattered around and together be laid and the young and the old and the low and the high shall molder to dust and together shall lie the infant a mother attended and loved the mother that infants affection who proved the rhe husband that hat mother and infant who blessed each all are away to their dwelling of rest the maid on an whose cheek on whose brow in whose eye shone beauty and pleasure her triumphs are by and the memory of those who loved her and praised are alike from the mindi of the living erased the hand of the king that the scepter hath bath borne the brow of the priest that the miter hath worn the eye of tle the sage ani the heart of the braie brae are hidden and lost in the depths of cf the grave the peasant whose lot was to sow and to reap the herdsman who climbed with his goats coati up the steep the beggar who wandered in search of his bread have faded away like the grass that we tread the saint who enjoyed the communion of heaven the sinner who dared to remain un forgiven the wise and the fj foolish olish the guilty and just have quietly mingled their bones in dust dusi so the multitude goes like the flower and the weed that wither away to let others succeed I 1 so 0 the multitude comes even those we behold to repeat every tale that has often been told for we tire are the same I 1 that hat our fathers have been we see the same sights that our fathers have seen we drink the same stream and view the same sun and run the same course that out our fathers haye have run the thoughts we are arc thinking our fathers would thinks from the death we are shrinking from they too would shrink to the life we are clinging to they too would dine cling but it speeds from the earth like a bird on the wing they loved but their story we carnot clan ot untold they scorned but the heart of the haughy haugh y is cold they grieved but no wall from their slumbers will come they loved joyed but the voice ot of their gladness glad neis is dumb they died ayl aal they died and we thines that are now who walk on the turf that lies its over their brow who mike in their dwelling a transient abode meet the changes tal they ef met on their pilgrimage road V yeal hope and despon despondency denci pleasure I 1 aria and pain are m mingled I 1 angled tog together ether in sunshine and rain and the smile and the tear the song and the dirge still follow each other like surge upon surge is the twink of an eye itis the draft of a breath from the blossom of health to the paleness of death from the gilded saloon to 10 the bier and the shroud oh why should the spirit of mortal be I 1 proud WILLIAM KNOX |