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Updated: June 2, 2025
I can mind, now, the way he'd settle lower and lower, till his head played hidey-peep with me over the grave's edge, and at last he'd be clean swallowed up, but still discoursing or calling up how he'd come upon wonderful towns and kingdoms down underground, and how all the kings and queens there, in dyed garments, was offering him meat for his dinner every day of the week if he'd only stop and hobbynob with them and all such gammut.
Below the inscription is this apposite quotation from Psalm cxli. 7: "Our bones are scattered at the grave's mouth, as when one cutteth and cleaveth wood upon the earth. But mine eyes are unto Thee, O God the Lord." At the corners of the flower-plot are small crosses bearing individual names.
In hell there'll be blue-blooded sinners, and she can't mix with sinners. The grave's the place for her, and won't anybody round here weep when she's put in it. But Lord-a-mercy, what am I wastin' time talking about an old teapot like her for? She's hurt Susie's feelin's so often, Susie bein' like her pa, and not havin' much spirit, that I get kinder riled when her name is mentioned.
After thinking awhile, she suddenly looked up brightly and said, "I remember one now that perhaps you will like. Shall I say it?" and as her companion nodded assent, she went on: "The night draws on sped is my day; I know my end is near. I raise my trembling hands to pray; The grave's dark road I fear. "O God! thou art my only light! Be thou my guiding star!
Oh! think not she rests in the grave's chilly slumber Nor sheds o'er the present her glorious light, Since Tyranny's shackles the free soul incumber And traitors accusing, deny to us Right! Freedom and Right! A single defeat can confuse us no longer: It adds to the combat's last gathering might, It bids us but doubly to struggle, and stronger To raise up our battle-cry "Freedom and Right!"
The grave's occupant that is the legend is an atheist, who declared that if God existed, six forest trees would grow out of her grave. These things in Hertfordshire; and farther afield lay the house of a hermit Mrs. Wilcox had known him who barred himself up, and wrote prophecies, and gave all he had to the poor.
The grave's occupant that is the legend is an atheist, who declared that if God existed, six forest trees would grow out of her grave. These things in Hertfordshire; and farther afield lay the house of a hermit Mrs. Wilcox had known him who barred himself up, and wrote prophecies, and gave all he had to the poor.
Slowly she recovered; for prayers to die are the last prayers ever answered; we live against our will, and tempt living deaths year after year, when soul and body cry out for the grave's repose, and beat themselves against the inscrutable will of God only to fall down before it in bruised and bleeding acquiescence.
Why this man Works theis or theis waies, with or against the State, We know and give allowaunces. 2 D. W. Why such a Gentleman, Thus hansom and thus yong, commaunds such a quarter; Where theis faire Ladies lye; why the Grave's angry And Mounseiur Barnavelt now discontent, Do you thinck it's fitt we should be ignorant? 2 D. W. Or why there's sprung up now a new devotion? Good Gentlewoman, no.
That might have seemed the best way of putting Beaumaroy off the scent. The green eyes were now alert, eager, immensely acquisitive. "The grave's in the Tower, if it's anywhere. Would you like to see the Tower, Mrs. Radbolt?" "Yes, I should," she answered tartly. "Being part of our property as it is." Mary exchanged a glance with Mr. Naylor, as they followed the others into the Tower.
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