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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409492" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In The Churchyard At Cambridge. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409492" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">In the village churchyard she lies,<br>Dust is in her beautiful eyes,<br>No more she breathes, nor feels, nor stirs;<br>At her feet and at her head<br>Lies a slave to attend the dead,<br>But their dust is white as hers. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409492" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Was she a lady of high degree,<br>So much in love with the vanity<br>And foolish pomp of this world of ours?<br>Or was it Christian charity,<br>And lowliness and humility,<br>The richest and rarest of all dowers? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409492" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Who shall tell us? No one speaks;<br>No color shoots into those cheeks,<br>Either of anger or of pride,<br>At the rude question we have asked;<br>Nor will the mystery be unmasked<br>By those who are sleeping at her side. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409492" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Hereafter?--And do you think to look<br>On the terrible pages of that Book<br>To find her failings, faults, and errors?<br>Ah, you will then have other cares,<br>In your own short-comings and despairs,<br>In your own secret sins and terrors!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Henry+Wadsworth+Longfellow">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</a></strong></div>