In a previous post I mentioned this poem & others by Lillian Marie McFadden. I have had requests to transcribe them to the list and will do so as time allows. "IN A COUNTRY CEMETERY It was a Sunday afternoon; A solemn silence filled the air, In that little cemetery Which was known by The name of Mt. Blair. It looked like a panorama As I stood and gazed around High above the surrounding country A cow-bell making the only sound. The summer sky was clear and blue With not a hint of clouds or rain; My eyes swept the valley below Where fields were lush with ripened grain. I contemplated the scene nearby As I dreamily turned and gazed At the hillside pasture below me Where herds of cows peacefully grazed. A long, level strip of country Stretched as far as the eye could see, While farmhouses scattered here and there Were as picturesque as could be. In the distance flowed Woodcock creek, Where grass grew green along its brink While thirsty cattle during the day, Waded in the depths to get a drink. Beyond the sharp bend in the creek Where Uncle Will had his sugar maple trees Which, in spring, attracted birds and bees. Across the creek, several houses Stood clustered together on a ridge, Near a well shaded road that led To the turnpike and the long red bridge. Four white farmhouses called 'the Corners' Looking most friendly and tranquil, Were cozily nestled together At the foot of the turnpike hill. A sudden awe crept over me, At the pastoral scene below Which looked like a beautiful picture As it basked in the sun's golden glow. I turned and gazed around the graveyard, Spread over the summit of the hill, Terracing gently down the west slope; It all looked so peaceful and still. I saw two graves topped with slabs of stone, Darkened and stained by rain and storm; I sat down on one of these to rest, Cooled by the breeze Though the stone felt warm. I tried to read the inscription, Chiseled on the age-blackened stone And found it had been a hundred years Since the man and his Spouse had passed on. I meandered among the headstones Where whole families lay side by side, And I read part of their history, At least, when they were born and had died. Some graves looked neglected and lonely, Lying there by themselves in the sun, Without sign of plant or flower But by a crop of weed overrun. As I wandered about I could see White marble monuments Here and there, Which resembled ghostly figures Towering in the sun and air. I thought 'These graves Are but empty tombs' For their souls had gone to dwell with God; It's their memories we love and mourn, Not their lifeless bodies under the sod. Why fear ghosts in the graveyard at night? It is the living that we should fear, Not the spirits of those who are gone Nor the bodies that lie buried here. When I left the cemetery behind And walked slowly down turnpike hill, A strange calm seemed to enfold me; I felt more humble To do God's will." I do not know when this poem was written, it was published in 1948. What I do know is that Lillian's parents Joseph B. McFadden & Katherine M. Ewing married Mar 22, 1877. Lillian was born in Meadville, Crawford Co, PA in ?yr. She was a graduate of Edinboro Normal School & Meadville Commercial College. In 1921 she moved to Los Angeles, CA. At 40 years of age, she became blind and lived with her Aunt Gertrude McFadden Chamberlain. The Uncle Will mentioned in the poem is probably her great uncle William A. Balliet who died Jan 08, 1918 and is buried at Mt. Blair. This leads me to believe that the poem was written before then as Uncle Will's maple trees are mentioned. It seems odd that there is no mention of her great grandparents Joseph Balliet (d. Nov 21, 1869) & Polly Swartz Balliet (d. May 05, 1899) who are both buried at Mt. Blair. Linda Kellbach, linda@mwci.net (researching McFadden, Balliet, Swartz, Rogers in Crawford County)