Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave
Like one that wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Thanatopsis.
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![[573]](#2001010581228339517_573.png.id-7220405870569706433.wrap-0.html.html){kind=link}
The groves were God's first temples.
A Forest Hymn.
The stormy March has come at last,