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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Лавка древностей
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- Стр. 453/459
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They
carried
her
to
one
old
nook
,
where
she
had
many
and
many
a
time
sat
musing
,
and
laid
their
burden
softly
on
the
pavement
.
The
light
streamed
on
it
through
the
coloured
window
—
a
window
,
where
the
boughs
of
trees
were
ever
rustling
in
the
summer
,
and
where
the
birds
sang
sweetly
all
day
long
.
With
every
breath
of
air
that
stirred
among
those
branches
in
the
sunshine
,
some
trembling
,
changing
light
,
would
fall
upon
her
grave
.
Earth
to
earth
,
ashes
to
ashes
,
dust
to
dust
!
Many
a
young
hand
dropped
in
its
little
wreath
,
many
a
stifled
sob
was
heard
.
Some
—
and
they
were
not
a
few
—
knelt
down
.
All
were
sincere
and
truthful
in
their
sorrow
.
The
service
done
,
the
mourners
stood
apart
,
and
the
villagers
closed
round
to
look
into
the
grave
before
the
pavement
-
stone
should
be
replaced
.
One
called
to
mind
how
he
had
seen
her
sitting
on
that
very
spot
,
and
how
her
book
had
fallen
on
her
lap
,
and
she
was
gazing
with
a
pensive
face
upon
the
sky
.
Another
told
,
how
he
had
wondered
much
that
one
so
delicate
as
she
,
should
be
so
bold
;
how
she
had
never
feared
to
enter
the
church
alone
at
night
,
but
had
loved
to
linger
there
when
all
was
quiet
,
and
even
to
climb
the
tower
stair
,
with
no
more
light
than
that
of
the
moon
rays
stealing
through
the
loopholes
in
the
thick
old
wall
.
A
whisper
went
about
among
the
oldest
,
that
she
had
seen
and
talked
with
angels
;
and
when
they
called
to
mind
how
she
had
looked
,
and
spoken
,
and
her
early
death
,
some
thought
it
might
be
so
,
indeed
.
Thus
,
coming
to
the
grave
in
little
knots
,
and
glancing
down
,
and
giving
place
to
others
,
and
falling
off
in
whispering
groups
of
three
or
four
,
the
church
was
cleared
in
time
,
of
all
but
the
sexton
and
the
mourning
friends
.
They
saw
the
vault
covered
,
and
the
stone
fixed
down
.
Then
,
when
the
dusk
of
evening
had
come
on
,
and
not
a
sound
disturbed
the
sacred
stillness
of
the
place
—
when
the
bright
moon
poured
in
her
light
on
tomb
and
monument
,
on
pillar
,
wall
,
and
arch
,
and
most
of
all
(
it
seemed
to
them
)
upon
her
quiet
grave
—
in
that
calm
time
,
when
outward
things
and
inward
thoughts
teem
with
assurances
of
immortality
,
and
worldly
hopes
and
fears
are
humbled
in
the
dust
before
them
—
then
,
with
tranquil
and
submissive
hearts
they
turned
away
,
and
left
the
child
with
God
.
Oh
!
it
is
hard
to
take
to
heart
the
lesson
that
such
deaths
will
teach
,
but
let
no
man
reject
it
,
for
it
is
one
that
all
must
learn
,
and
is
a
mighty
,
universal
Truth
.
When
Death
strikes
down
the
innocent
and
young
,
for
every
fragile
form
from
which
he
lets
the
panting
spirit
free
,
a
hundred
virtues
rise
,
in
shapes
of
mercy
,
charity
,
and
love
,
to
walk
the
world
,
and
bless
it
.
Of
every
tear
that
sorrowing
mortals
shed
on
such
green
graves
,
some
good
is
born
,
some
gentler
nature
comes
.
In
the
Destroyer
’
s
steps
there
spring
up
bright
creations
that
defy
his
power
,
and
his
dark
path
becomes
a
way
of
light
to
Heaven
.
It
was
late
when
the
old
man
came
home
.
The
boy
had
led
him
to
his
own
dwelling
,
under
some
pretence
,
on
their
way
back
;
and
,
rendered
drowsy
by
his
long
ramble
and
late
want
of
rest
,
he
had
sunk
into
a
deep
sleep
by
the
fireside
.
He
was
perfectly
exhausted
,
and
they
were
careful
not
to
rouse
him
.
The
slumber
held
him
a
long
time
,
and
when
he
at
length
awoke
the
moon
was
shining
.
The
younger
brother
,
uneasy
at
his
protracted
absence
,
was
watching
at
the
door
for
his
coming
,
when
he
appeared
in
the
pathway
with
his
little
guide
.
He
advanced
to
meet
them
,
and
tenderly
obliging
the
old
man
to
lean
upon
his
arm
,
conducted
him
with
slow
and
trembling
steps
towards
the
house
.
He
repaired
to
her
chamber
,
straight
.
Not
finding
what
he
had
left
there
,
he
returned
with
distracted
looks
to
the
room
in
which
they
were
assembled
.
From
that
,
he
rushed
into
the
schoolmaster
’
s
cottage
,
calling
her
name
.
They
followed
close
upon
him
,
and
when
he
had
vainly
searched
it
,
brought
him
home
.
