Languages & literature > Aurus clavus, or, The adventures of a gold trinket, supposed to have been written by itself

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can easier conceive than I could describe.
Feebly he wound his way down an avenue of
stately oaks, which terminated in an open vista,
on one side of which, toward the parish church,
stood an old building of moderate size, and of
no particular architecture, surrounded by the
churchyard, the door of which stood open, and
my master entered. He was faint from the
exertion of travelling, and seating himself on a
grave-stone, he cast his eyes towards the church,
and sighing deeply, broke forth into the follow¬
ing reverie:—“ Beautiful scene, the time was
when I would have contemplated you with
elated hopes, and longing for the time when I
would be permitted to minister within such
walls as these, and declare the glad tidings of
my Master to a willing and attentive people;
but that hope can no more cheer my dreams of
the future, nor animate my struggles. I feel the
life-blood ebbing from my heart, and soon must
I sleep beneath the green sod, and be forgotten
by all save a few dear hearts who will feel for
their early lost friend, and perhaps drop a tear
to my memory, and heave a sigh as they tread
the turf that covers my last, my narrow bed.
Truly hath the wise man said—‘ Man cometh