THE CITE OF THE DEAD.

Otago Witness, Issue 1942, 7 February 1889, Page 29

THE CITE OF THE DEAD.

Upon the plain, or spread o'er the hillside I By country town or proud Metropolis — I Where lusty life flows on in brimming tide, 1 Another town yclept Necropolis ' (Aa if in weird, proportioned couple) is Thire overseen, with streets and squares outspreadAlthough within its quarters populous No traffic wakens with its noisy tread The Sabbath calm of this lone City of the Dead. But yet within its precincts desolate Are often diya ot high event, when soma New tenant— borne along in eolemn state To his assigned abode therein— has come ; Yet even then nor trump nor heat of drum Make 3 gay such scene of seeming triumph led ; But then heard only of hushed tones a hum ; While heads down bowed, and eye 3 with weeping red, Mark each such high day in the City of the Dend, In peaceful rest its citizens there lie, Both young and old, a, motley multitudeAlt once as we are now, with passions high ; Yet rich and poor, now seeming one in mood. No jealous prejudice nor party feud (As in life ever makes strife imminent) In aught affects the awful quietude That, last seen, marked each marbled lineament t But silent all lie in each separate tenement. Yet of these tenements, the sculptured pile Decked bravely iome with monumental pride, On which, engraved in gilded-lettered Btyle, The owner's name and virtues are descried. While more again adjoining close beside Are simply left with grass and weeds o'ergrown ; Yet reck not those who thus are published wide, Nor fret the others that no tokens shown, Have caused their names to be forgotten and tux- ■. known. And from the outer world are often there Seen visitors ; but who, with tonea subdued, These paths pace Blowly, as if in the air Were what made sober the most joyous mood. While by these homes of silent solitude— Whose floors within no living foot may tread — Stand mourning ones in garments aable-hued, Whose recent wound ot ruptured ties still bled For friends late flitted to the Oity ot the Dend. ! There by a mound fresh moulded have I seen j A blooming maid, not yet to woman turned, Weep silently, — a beauteous Magdalene— her strong sire in that dark house imunred ; Or for a son in manly prime unwarned At one fell stroke to that lone city rushed, A mother there with hot tears oft hns mourned. Ah! many a heart with ruptured chords thus - crushed Yearns o'er these silent hornea of forms of moulder^ ing dust. A few short years ago— how few times ten ? Theee all in life, their various courses drove, Theu blooming women and strong lusty men, With hearts as ours are now to feel and love ; They joyed, they grieved, they coveted, they strove* Unconscious of the fraying of life's thread ; That as their far-off schemes they fondly wove, Abruptly snapt, when from life's cares then sped, A sudden'quittance for the City of the Dead. Their lives now held in death's hermetic scales No more take register of Time's career, Whose flight, when erst consumed by life's details. Had proved the source of many a nervous fear. When no thought, then, of the sepultured bier, In aught impaired life's confidence assured ; Ere yet it's hopes prospective vision clear. Were by the approaching shadow dark obsoured, Now ever hovering o'er where they lie lowly mured. No more shall these dulled orbs with rapture fill, From stars or moon, or sun's delightsome beams ; Or stream or wood or flowered meadow hill Thrill those cold hearts with their untiring themes. And never more in moro deplored extremes Shall passions wild tucee pulseless breasts consume ; That in some mastering reasons fitful gleams, Them victims had in midst of manhood's bloom Consigned totheao cold homss of duafc and silent gloom. And of that concourse silent lying there, All onco with bright creative gifts endowed, How few are they who show what once they were In marks behind left of their names avowed ; Or who for talents o'er the common crowd Had by their use such timely purpose made, They with the living still hold converse loud Jn worka and thoughts, admired and fondly re?id. Though now long tenants of the City of the Dead. With tbee, deaf love, how suits such questions here, As by thy low abode in thought I stand, And sadly equsg o'er thy curtailed career, With heart and mind for noble purpose planned, And gifts endowed by impel at command The facile pen ; or on the Senate floor To shine among the chosen of the land, Had thine been the resolve to augment more These talenta lent fchee by persistent studiuus lore. But in vile Moloch's worship low abased Their lustre dimmed, alas ! became in thee, Till such enslavement from thy mind effaced Those high poised thoughts that there were wont to be; And In such blinded, mad fafcuffcy A truant wanderer from wisdom's school ; Must it of thee be wisdom's stern decree " Died Abuer thus as diefch but a fool " In thy sad waated life, poor victim of misrule. These cities of the dead grow apace, And when to crumbling ruins shall descend The world's proud capitals o'er the earth's face . Their Bad memorial colums will extend ; When their oloaed vaults then suddenly will rend The awful s.hock of the Archangel^ blast, And all the inmates there long mould'ring penned Then leap to li'.fe a teeming concourse vnst— Some jubilant, i>ut more at judgment's call aghast. — DUGALP FBBGUSOJT.