---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Alder, Lydia D.
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 20
number: 9
published: 1917-07
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'Lydia D. Alder, "The Wayside Dead," *Improvement Era* 20, no. 9 (July 1917): 815.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2009unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera2009unse
start_page: 815
end_page: 815
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1917-07)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2009unse
  publication_year: 1917
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1917, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# The Wayside Dead

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<!-- Source heading: The Wayside Dead. -->



Wayside  Dead
Eyes  turned  to'ard  the  setting  sun,
In  the  glowing  light,
Saw  The  Place  all  glorified,
Visioned  to  their  sight,
Where  the  outcasts  should  become
Cultured,  great  and  strong;
But  the  way  to  Pioneers
Seemed  so  hard  and  long.
Many  laid  them  down  to  sleep,
Morning,  noon,  or  eve;
Where  no  taps  are  ever  heard,
Where  none  come  to  grieve.
Generations  yet  unborn
Shall  their  story  tell —
Pioneers  who  saw  in  dreams
Where  the  Saints  should  dwell.
Summers  come  and  summers  go
Where  the  wild  flowers  bloom;
Heedless  still  they  slumber  on
In  the  darkened  tomb.
Rows  of  mounds  define  the  way
Where  the  pilgrims  trod;
"Unknown  graves"  they  call  them  now-
Unknown  save  to  God.
"Are  they  dead  who  silent  lie
Where  the  snows  drift  deep?"
Resting  where  no  foe  molests,
They  the  watch-fires  keep.
Wailing  breezes  seem  to  ask,
"Were  their  hopes  in  vain?"
They  shall  rise  from  sweet  repose,
They  shall  live  again.
Lydia  D.  Alder.