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Strange things, the neighbours say, have happen'd there: Wild shrieks have issued from the hollow tombs, Dead men have come again, and, walk'd about; And the great bell has toll'd unrung, untouch'd. Such tales their cheer at wake or gossiping, When it draws near to witching time of night. - Hugh Blair Yet there are graves, whose rudely shapen sod Bears the fresh footprints where the sexton trod; Graves where the verdure has not dar'd to shoot Where the chance wildflower has not fix'd its root, Whose slumbering tenants, dead without a name, The eternal record shall at length proclaim Pure as the holiest in the long array Of hooded, mitred, or tiara'd clay! - Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. There lay the warrior and the son of song, And there--in silence till the judgment day-- The orator, whose all-persuading tongue Had mov'd the nations with resistless sway. - Lady Caroline Sheridan Norton (Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton)
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