. The lone furrow . e long procession of car-riages and farm wagons passed to the village cemetery inits grove of pines. Through their harp boughs the wind car- 258 The Lone Furrow ried a plaintive dirge to blend with the ministers soft voiceas he read: Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth themthat fear him. * * ? For he knoweth our frame ; he remembereth that we are dust. ** * As for man his days are as grass ; as a flower of the field so heflourisheth. ** * For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone ; and the placethereof shall know it no more. * • Behold I show you a


. The lone furrow . e long procession of car-riages and farm wagons passed to the village cemetery inits grove of pines. Through their harp boughs the wind car- 258 The Lone Furrow ried a plaintive dirge to blend with the ministers soft voiceas he read: Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth themthat fear him. * * ? For he knoweth our frame ; he remembereth that we are dust. ** * As for man his days are as grass ; as a flower of the field so heflourisheth. ** * For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone ; and the placethereof shall know it no more. * • Behold I show you a mystery ; we shall not all sleep, but weshall all be changed. * But thanks be to God which giveth us the victory through ourLord Jesus Christ. As some beautiful dream is shattered to waking pain bythe fall of a book, so I almost cried out in anguish, waked intodreary realism by the dull thud of gravel echoing on the coffinfrom the bottom of the grave. Indeed it was the last terri-ble rite of inexorable 259 ff^J ti


Size: 2412px × 1036px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookautho, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidlonefurro00fras