present happiness. It is this only that saves me from despair. I feel when looking over her preserved flowers, and when I am watching the budding and blossoming of the flowers upon her grave, that I am in her presence; and it is this reflection that solaces my grief. These flowers, and all the objects in this beautiful valley, are emblems to my mind of my sister's life in heaven; and I think more of the flowers that spring up from her grave, than I should of the proudest monument that was ever carved out of marble." Thus memory, as well as poetry and religious sentiment, endears and hallows these natural scenes as the proper places for the repose of the dead. Our remembrance of the incidents of their life is intimately associated with the grove, the hillside, the path by the river, and with other rural walks. In their company have we become familiar and delighted with these scenes and objects. The trees have a sacredness which is due to their alliance with the memory of our departed friends; the flowers are the reflection of the smiles of those whom we loved. And when we come abroad under the open sky, surrounded by these memorials of our friends, in the midst of these material forms of loveliness and beauty, and these emblems of our religious faith and our trust in heaven, we do not turn away gloomy and desponding; but sit down with full assurances of meeting them again, when the evidence of divine truth, which is only emblemized in nature, beams upon us in the full blaze of celestial glory. 2 STANZAS. BY REV. C. WOLFE. If I had thought thou could'st have died, I might not weep for thee, But I forgot, when by thy side, That thou could'st mortal be; It never through my mind had past, And I on thee should look my last, And still upon that face I look, And still the thought I will not brook, That I must look in vain! But when I speak thou dost not say, What thou ne'er left'st unsaid; And now I feel, as well I may, If thou would'st stay, e'en as thou art, I still might press thy silent heart, And where thy smiles have been! But then I lay thee in thy grave, I do not think, where'er thou art, And I, perhaps, may soothe this breast, Yet there was round thee such a dawn Of light ne'er seen before, As fancy never could have drawn, THE GATEWAY. ONE of the first objects that would attract the stranger's attention, on approaching Mount Auburn, is the Egyptian gateway at the principal entrance. It is built of granite, and is a very imposing and appropriate structure. The cornice with which it is surrounded is a single stone, twenty-four feet in height by twelve in breadth. It bears the device of a winged globe, which is emblematical of divine protection. Underneath is this inscription in raised letters: — 66 THEN SHALL THE DUST RETURN TO THE EARTH AS IT WAS, AND THE SPIRIT SHALL RETURN TO THE GOD THAT GAVE IT." MOUNT AUBURN; CONSECRATED SEPTEMBER 24TH, 1831. The two lateral buildings contain rooms which are used as the offices of the Porter and the Superintendent. THE CHAPEL. THE Chapel was erected for the performance of burial services in those cases in which the state of the weather, or other circumstances connected with the funeral of the deceased, might render it necessary or convenient. It was designed also to afford a depository for statues and other works of sculpture which require protection from the weather. This building is also of granite, and is situated on a conspicuous elevation, at the right of Central Avenue. It is sixty feet by forty in its dimensions, and its decorations are in the pointed style of architecture. The windows are of colored glass, and in the head of the large nave window is an emblematical device, consisting of a winged female figure reposing in sleep upon the clouds, and holding two sleeping infants in her arms. It is designed to symbolize the tranquillity of death. The rose window in front contains a painted emblem of immortality, represented by two cherubs with an upward and prayerful look of devotion. |