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Literary Gazette, 29th August, 1829, Page 571
ORIGINAL POETRY.
THE FIRST GRAVE.
[We are indebted for the following pathetic little poem to the circumstance of the first grave being formed in the churchyard of the new church at Brompton: the place was recently a garden, and some of the flowers yet show themselves among the graves, where this one tenant, the forerunner of its population, has taken up his last abode.]
A Single grave!—the only one
In this unbroken ground,
Where yet the garden leaf and flower
Are lingering around.
A single grave!—my heart has felt
How utterly alone
In crowded halls, where breathed for me
Not one familiar tone;
The shade where forest-trees shut out
All but the distant sky;—
I've felt the loneliness of night
When the dark winds past by;
My pulse has quickened with its awe,
My lip has gasped for breath;
But what were they to such as this—
The solitude of death!
A single grave!—we half forget
How sunder human ties,
When round the silent place of rest
A gathered kindred lies.
We stand beneath the haunted yew,
And watch each quiet tomb;
And in the ancient churchyard feel
Solemnity, not gloom:
