Urn

. . . Containing the Night Thoughts of a Sexagenarian It is this heavenly tale, that the child in one could wish for, that keeps me awake tonight, on the eve of my sixtieth year, fearing death and wishing for grace, not knowing what either is, or even if either is, though the unbreathing stillness of bodies has me fairly convinced of the former, and of the latter I have seen so little as to doubt what I have seen … Read on…