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28
poems.
Thou art not all unblest, alone,
God soon shall call the wanderer home.
We see the tear, we hear the sigh,
To thee our changeless love is given.
Thy "household band" in faith is nigh,
And thy best land,—thy home—is heaven."




MOUNT VERNON.
Nay, let his dust in peace repose,
His ashes there in silence sleep.
Fond memory there its sunlight throws;
There, unseen forms their vigils keep.

He sleeps in silent glory there.
Man's labor ne'er his rest invades.
No heedless step, no busy care,
Disturbs Mount Vernon's sacred shades.

That spot is consecrated now.
There cease the tones of idle mirth.
Millions in grateful homage bow;
'T is freedom's holiest shrine on earth.

What though no sculptured marble tells
His name, who sleeps the stone below?