The Grave Poem by Lucretia Maria Davidson

The Grave



There is a spot so still and dreary,
It is a pillow to the weary;
It is so solemn and so lone,
That grief forgets to heave a groan.

There life's storms can enter never;
There 't is dark and lonely ever;
The mourner there shall seek repose,
And there the wanderer's journey close.

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