The mountain rill
More quotes by Park Benjamin Sr.
And, like some low and mournful spell,
To whisper but one word—farewell!
Great faith it needs, according to my view,
To trust in that which never could be true.
He loved his kind, but sought the love of few,
And valued old opinions more than new.
Nigh to a grave that was newly made,
Leaned a sexton old on his earth-worn spade.
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Attribution
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