C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.


  • There lay the warrior and the son of song,
  • And there—in silence till the judgment day—
  • The orator, whose all-persuading tongue
  • Had mov’d the nations with resistless sway.
  • Mrs. Norton.

  • Strange things, the neighbours say, have happen’d there:
  • Wild shrieks have issued from the hollow tombs,
  • Dead men have come again, and walk’d about;
  • And the great bell has toll’d unrung, untouch’d.
  • Such tales their cheer at wake or gossiping,
  • When it draws near to ’witching time of night.
  • Blair.

  • Yet there are graves, whose rudely shapen sod
  • Bears the fresh footprints where the sexton trod;
  • Graves where the verdure has not dar’d to shoot,
  • Where the chance wildflower has not fix’d its root,
  • Whose slumbering tenants, dead without a name,
  • The eternal record shall at length proclaim
  • Pure as the holiest in the long array
  • Of hooded, mitred, or tiara’d clay!
  • O. W. Holmes.

  • The solitary, silent, solemn scene,
  • Where Cæsars, heroes, peasants, hermits lie,
  • Blended in dust together; where the slave
  • Rests from his labors; where th’ insulting proud
  • Resigns his power, the miser drops his hoard,
  • Where human folly sleeps.
  • Dyer.