MAY 31, 1879
The record of a generous life runs like a vine around the memory of our dead, and every sweet, unselfish act is now a perfumed flower.
Dear Friends: I am going to do that which the dead oft promised he would do for me.
The loved and loving brother, husband, father, friend, died where manhood’s morning almost touches noon, and while the shadows still were falling toward the west.
He had not passed on life’s highway the stone that marks the highest point; but, being weary for a moment, he lay down by the wayside, and, using his burden for a pillow, fell into that dreamless sleep that kisses down his eyelids1 still. While yet in love with life and raptured2 with the world, he passed to silence and pathetic dust.
Yet, after all, it may be best, just in the happiest, sunniest hour of all the voyage, while eager winds are kissing every sail, to dash against the unseen rock, and in an instant hear the billows roar above a sunken ship. For whether in mid3 sea or ‘mong the breakers of the farther shore, a wreck4 at last must mark the end of each and all. And every life, no matter if its every hour is rich with love and every moment jeweled with a joy, will, at its close, become a tragedy as sad and deep and dark as can be woven of the warp5 and woof of mystery and death.
This brave and tender man in every storm of life was oak and rock; but in the sunshine he was vine and flower. He was the friend of all heroic souls. He climbed the heights, and left all superstitions6 far below, while on his forehead fell the golden dawning of the grander day.
He loved the beautiful, and was with color, form, and music touched to tears. He sided with the weak, the poor, and wronged, and lovingly gave alms. With loyal heart and with the purest hands he faithfully discharged all public trusts.
He was a worshipper of liberty, a friend of the oppressed. A thousand times I have heard him quote these words: “For Justice, all place a temple, and all season, summer.” He believed that happiness was the only good, reason the only torch, justice the only worship, humanity the only religion, and love the only priest. He added to the sum of human joy; and were every one to whom he did some loving service to bring a blossom to his grave, he would sleep to-night beneath a wilderness7 of flowers.
Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of our wailing8 cry. From the voiceless lips of the unreplying dead there comes no word; but in the night of death hope sees a star and listening love can hear the rustle9 of a wing.
He who sleeps here, when dying, mistaking the approach of death for the return of health, whispered with his latest breath, “I am better now.” Let us believe, in spite of doubts and dogmas, of fears and tears, that these dear words are true of all the countless10 dead.
And now, to you, who have been chosen, from among the many men he loved, to do the last sad office for the dead, we give his sacred dust.
Speech cannot contain our love. There was there is, no gentler, stronger, manlier11 man.
The End
1 eyelids | |
n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 );眼睛也不眨一下;不露声色;面不改色 | |
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2 raptured | |
欢天喜地的,狂喜的,销魂的 | |
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3 mid | |
adj.中央的,中间的 | |
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4 wreck | |
n.失事,遇难;沉船;vt.(船等)失事,遇难 | |
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5 warp | |
vt.弄歪,使翘曲,使不正常,歪曲,使有偏见 | |
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6 superstitions | |
迷信,迷信行为( superstition的名词复数 ) | |
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7 wilderness | |
n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等,荒漠 | |
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8 wailing | |
v.哭叫,哀号( wail的现在分词 );沱 | |
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9 rustle | |
v.沙沙作响;偷盗(牛、马等);n.沙沙声声 | |
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10 countless | |
adj.无数的,多得不计其数的 | |
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11 manlier | |
manly(有男子气概的)的比较级形式 | |
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