Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from Echoes From the Highland Hills
HE is not dead. He could not die, His Spirit has returned to God; What cares that soul, released and free, For mouldering body 'neath the sod The body dies: an empty Shell, It fills the dark and cheerless grave' The mind, immortal, upward soars, No longer bound to earth a. Slave. They made his grave 'mid drifting snow, While sadly blew the north-wind's breath, And hid from sight that noble heart, So calm, so still, - they call it death. All were his friends, the loved, not lost, And o'er the cold and pulseless clay The tears of grief in anguish fall; The drops of sorrow, naught can stay. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
