“How Came I Hither?”

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  “I observed in the herbage a number of weather-worn stones, evidently shaped with tools. They were broken, covered with moss and half sunken in the earth. Some lay prostrate, some leaned at various angles, none was vertical. They were obviously headstones of graves, though the graves themselves no longer existed as either mounds or depressions; the years had leveled all. Scattered here and there, more massive blocks showed where some pompous tomb or ambitious monument had once flung its feeble defiance at oblivion. So old seemed these relics, these vestiges of vanity and memorials of affection and piety, so battered and worn and stained—so neglected, deserted, forgotten the place, that I could not help thinking myself the discoverer of the burial-ground of a prehistoric race of men whose very name was long extinct. Filled with these reflections, I was for some time heedless of the sequence of my own experiences, but soon I thought, “How came I hither?”” An Inhabitant of Carcosa B...

This has been His Kingdom

The story is told of a boy who lay dying of his wounds in a Civil War hospital. Realizing he was near the end, a Christian nurse asked, “Are you ready to meet your God, my dear boy?”

His eyes opened and a smile grew on the young soldier’s face as he answered, “I am ready, dear lady, for this has been His kingdom.” As he spoke, he placed his hand upon his heart.

“Do you mean,” asked the nurse, “that God rules and reigns in your heart?”

“Yes,” he whispered, then died—his hand still lay over his heart after it ceased to beat.

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