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[[newspaper clipping]] whose promise animates the creeds! For this alone the most rigid may revere his religion, and even without this spotless life of purity, philanthropy, heroic deed, has been a model for those who seek to become the disciples of whom the Teacher said, "By their fruits ye shall know them." This is the one statement which I desire to make. This much, at this final place and hour, I am moved to affirm, Joyous poet, loyal comrade, patient and generous brother in toil and song-Farewell! Farewell!

The following ode composed by Mrs. S. L Oberholtzer and set to music by Professor John R. Sweeney, was then sung by twenty-five ladies and gentlemen representing Kennet, Chester, West Chester and other places in the county:

FOLD IT AWAY.
A Burial Ode for Bayard Taylor.
Empty the casket, the caged bird outflown.
Back again, back again, Earth, take thy own!
Thou who didst give it thy fairest of clay, 
Clasp thy arms tenderly, 
Fold it away.
Fold it away, for the loved one has fled,
Fold it away, for our hero is dead,
Fold it away, fold it away, 
Fold it away, for our hero is dead.

Carried most lovingly over the sea,
Bring we our offering, Longwood, to thee,
Wanderings over and full garlands won,
Rev'rently bring we the dust of thy son.
Fold it away, etc.

Leave as our treasures his life and his songs,
Take in thy keeping what do thee belongs,
Take the wayfarer's inn, God has taken the guest; 
Ours are the memories-thine is the rest.
Fold it away, etc.

Back again, back again, -earth unto earth!
Cradle his slumbers who cradled his birth.
Take the form tenderly close to thy breast,
Gather it lovingly home to its rest.
Fold it away, etc.

The ceremonies were then concluded with the benediction by Dr. Furness, after which the mourners and the more intimate and personal friends returned to Cedarcroft. The great throng of country people passed reverently by the side of the green grave, many raising their hats in respect. Several sprigs of evergreen, boxwood, little bunches of flowers and single rosebuds were dropped into the grave as the crowd passed along. Many lingered about the cemetery long after the grave was filled up. Every one seemed to have some pleasant recollection of our kind word for the poet. He was regarded in the community as a common friend. He belonged to Kennet, was born there, and known to all as "Bayard," by which name he was uniformly addressed. Said one man: "He was a great, big-hearted fellow, and we all liked him. But this tells the tale," he added, as he waved his brawny arm in the direction of the great multitude of people and the throng of carriages. "I guess you don't need anything more than that."

The Taylor family lot is about the middle of the cemetery, and the afternoon sun is shut out from the grave of the poet by the shade of a large evergreen tree which grows at the head of his brother's grave. 
[[/newspaper clipping]]

belief in it and that life would be worth nothing without it. Lily and Miss Johnson called and I had a very pleasant visit with them. I wrote to Bishop Doane of Albany inquiring for the address of Rev. Francis Gilliatte Minnie Cohens admirer. Mary and I went to the Unitarian convention at the church corner of 34" St & Park Ave. Short and interesting addresses were made by the clergyman from Newport, Mr. Thayer, Geo. Curtis & Dr Bellows. No letter from home. I am anxious to hear from my father. The Editor Herald politely sent a man here to give me the name of the correspondent who wrote the account of Taylors departure, Rev. Mr. Walden.

Thursday March 20. 1879. Began a picture [[?]], a composition based on two of my Kaatskill brook studies with an Indian Summer effect. The size is 20 x 24. I hope I shall become interested and shall lay Gertrudes portrait aside for a while. Have felt very badly today, ill in body and mind. I have a severe cold in my lungs and this morning felt feverish and have had a melancholy feeling all day. Wheeler called. I wrote to Mrs. Taylor and sent her the Herald account of Bayards departure. My Franklin arrived from Wilmington and I have it in my room. It is in very good order but needs some work on it. I hope to get it up tomorrow. Mary, Calvert and I called on the Cranchs this evening who have taken the Gilders little place in 15" St. while they are gone to Europe. No response to my letter of nearly a month ago but I cannot put it away and am lost in all sorts of conjectures and cannot surrender as I perhaps must at last

Friday March 21. Wrote to Rev Francis Gilliat at Pottsville Pa. the address sent me by Bishop Doane. Am quite interested to see what he will say. Eastman lunched with me. I showed him