The earth was thrown in on the little body, and heaped up in a mound till it was a tiny model of the grave in the glade above.
"Frank Merriwell's Cruise" by Burt L. Standish
Tomlinson, owner of the great mound at Grave Creek, West Virginia, excavated the mound.
"The Book of the Damned" by Charles Fort
The grave was dug close by the little mound beneath which Henrica lay.
"Feats on the Fiord" by Harriet Martineau
At her feet lay the low, long mound which marked her mother's grave.
"The Heart of Unaga" by Ridgwell Cullum
By the wayside we passed a solitary grave, the mound and headstone in a patch of corn and potatoes.
"The Continental Monthly, Vol 6, No 5, November 1864" by Various
A curious and significant observation has been made in excavating the most ancient graves in the world, those of the so-called Mound-builders.
"Chaldea" by Zénaïde A. Ragozin
He saw her stop beside a little mound, kneel down, and carefully dividing her flowers, place the half of them upon a child's grave.
"The Arena" by Various
In the lonely grave amongst the rank grass and sand mounds the woman stayed, oblivious of the cold and soaking rain.
"Life and sport in China" by Oliver G. Ready
In one was a large, grave-shaped mound of cement-like substance.
"A Wayfarer in China" by Elizabeth Kendall
Near the Children were a number of graves, grassy mounds, wooden crosses and tombstones.
"The Blue Bird for Children" by Georgette Leblanc
A little mound of earth, overgrown with flowers, denoted the humble grave of some one dear to the recollection of the Norwegian girl.
"A Yacht Voyage to Norway, Denmark, and Sweden" by W. A. Ross
Sagan's great horse stood across the low mound of the finished grave.
"A Modern Mercenary" by Kate Prichard and Hesketh Vernon Hesketh-Prichard
At a short distance they look for all the world like mounds in a grave-yard.
"The Land of Thor" by J. Ross Browne
There was a pause of some time while Solange visited the almost obliterated mound marking the grave of her father.
"Louisiana Lou" by William West Winter
Close beside this grave was a mound with a wooden cross at the head.
"The Pines of Lory" by John Ames Mitchell
The spectres passed through the gap there into a field of graves on the mound's level summit.
"The Missourian" by Eugene P. (Eugene Percy) Lyle
Over the dead President's grave is a mound, from the top of which rises a granite obelisk twenty feet high.
"The Scrap Book, Volume 1, No. 6" by Various
Numerous Indian mounds and graves are still to be seen in certain sections of the Valley.
"Legends of the Skyline Drive and the Great Valley of Virginia" by Carrie Hunter Willis
It is Edward Sylvester and the mound is the grave of his mother.
"The Sword of Damocles" by Anna Katharine Green
He remained with the family at the grave till the little mound was smoothed and finished above it.
"The Progressionists, and Angela." by Conrad von Bolanden
Make me no grave within that quiet place
Where friends shall sadly view the grassy mound,
Politely solemn for a little space,
As though the spirit slept beneath the ground.
"Make Me No Grave" by Henry Herbert Knibbs
Beneath this mound her hallowed ashes lie;
In this dark grave her weary form reposes,
And all of her which death could cause to die,
In its embraces cold this tomb incloses.
"My Mothers Grave" by Alfred Gibbs Campbell
But what kind hand will tend his grave, and bring
Those blossoms there, of which he used to sing?
Who'll kiss his mound, and wish the time would come
To lie with him inside that silent tomb?
"The Lonely Dreamer" by William H Davies
My son, my son,
A father's eyes are looking on thy grave,
Dry eyes that look on this green mound and see
The low weed blossom and the long grass wave,
Without a single tear to them or thee,
My son, my son.
"A Hero's Grave" by Sydney Thompson Dobell
"Then who is digging on my grave,
My nearest dearest kin?"
— "Ah, no: they sit and think, 'What use!
What good will planting flowers produce?
No tendance of her mound can loose
Her spirit from Death's gin.'"
"Ah, Are You Digging On My Grave?" by Thomas Hardy
And lo! in the meadow sweet was the grave of a little child,
With a crumbling stone at the feet and the ivy running wild--
Tangled ivy and clover folding it over and over:
Close to my sweetheart's feet was the little mound up-piled.
"Prescience" by Thomas Bailey Aldrich