Based on John 19: 41
The sepulchres, how thick they stand
Through all the road on either hand!
And burst upon the startling sight
In every garden of delight!
Thither the winding alleys tend;
There all the flowery borders end;
And forms, that charmed the eyes before,
Fragrance, and music are no more.
Deep in that damp and silent cell
My fathers and my brethren dwell;
Beneath its broad and gloomy shade
My kindred and my friends are laid.
But while I tread the solemn way,
My faith that saviour would survey
Who deigned to sojourn in the tomb,
And left behind a rich perfume.
My thoughts with ecstasy unknown,
While from his grave they view his throne,
Through mine own sepulchre can see
A paradise reserved for me.
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