A little mound was raised beside the grave of the maternal grandfather, who had fallen suddenly, in the meridian of life, while the strength of manhood was yet upon him.  As the aged grandmother turned from the grave of the little ones, she gave one lingering glance to her husband’s grave, and removing her glove from her hand, pressed the marble slab, that stood at the head of it, and passed on, with a sigh and a tear, to fulfil the remaining duties that awaited her in life.

She had parted from him, many long years before, and now she had lived her threescore years and ten, and her head was whitened with passing years; but the infant of a few days had gone before her.  But a few more years passed, and you looked in vain upon earth for that weary voyager,

On the Frailty of Earthly Things.

  The things of earth are false, as fair,
    And glitter to betray,
  They scarce outlive the sunny glare
    Of one short summer day.

  The hours—­how rapid in their flight,
    And days pass swift away,
  Scarce dawning ere the shades of night
    Chase its bright beams away.

  The dew-drop trembling on the flow’r,
    Gemm’d by the morning’s ray,—­
  Glitters scarce one little hour,
    Ere it is dried away.

  The butterfly with gilded wing,
    That flits from spray to spray,
  Is but an evanescent thing,
    That passeth soon away.

  The flow’rs—­those gay and brilliant things,
    So charming to the eye,
  Soon fold their withered petals up,
    And fade away and die.

  The busy bee, with drowsy hum,
    That through the summer day,
  Flies sipping round from flow’y to flow’r,
    Bearing its sweets away,

  Is soon constrain’d by wintry winds,
    To seek her honi’d cell,
  And giving o’er her wandering life,
    In quiet there, to dwell.

  And rosy health that paints the cheek
    With richest crimson dye,
  And bids the heart of kindness speak
    From beauty’s flashing eye,

  Soon, soon withdraws the blushing rose,
    And leaves the lily there: 
  Bedims the lustre of the eye,
    And pales the cheek with care.

  I saw a smiling infant stand
    By its fond mother’s side: 
  She fondly pressed one dimpl’d hand
    With sweet maternal pride.

  Her form was faultless to behold,
    And every infant grace
  Beam’d sweetly from her radiant eye,
    And rosy dimpl’d face.

  But sudden stiffness seiz’d those limbs,
    A gurgling stopp’d her breath: 
  Those eyes that shone so bright before,
    Were soon upturn’d in death.

  And love that fills the youthful breast,
    With visions bright and gay,
  Oft strews his downy nest with thorns,
    And quickly flies away.

  And friendship, that peculiar boon,
    From God to mortals given,
  That seems a brilliant golden link,
    Uniting earth with heaven,