SERIOUS REFLECTToNs.

THE GRAVE YARD.
{"newspaper_name": "The Wilmingtonian, and Delaware advertiser.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
love to wander in the grave yard.--It is
pleasant to depart from the troubles OF life,
to retired and still place, which is endear-
ed by the memory of departed friends, and
solemnize our minds in rejecting on the
times we have spent with them, and the time
when we must meet them in other scenes.
We forget in such situation, the passions
and distractions, we every where else expe-
rience. 1t is the sabbath of the soul. 1t is
like an hour devoted TO peace, and sacred
to virtue. We can have no communion
with the dead. We cannot embrace their
bones, and kiss their ashes. The ruin OF
mortality is loathsome. But our spirits can
meetin the purest regions of the air, and
hold colloquy sublime


The grave is sacred. Here is the abode
of something, emblemed with tears and hal
lowed by friendship. There is no defence
about tit is powerless. But it is protect
ed by shade of awful mystery, which no
arm dare raise. When any one with the
hand of sacrilege. profanes this holy sane