The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1851-06-14
A Beautiful Letter.

Of a letter from dying wife to her bus
band, was found by him, some months
after her death between the leaves Of a
religious volume which she was very
fond of perusing. The letter which
was literally dim with tear-marks, was
written long before the husband was
aware that the grasp of fatal disease
had fastened upon the lovely form of his
wife, who died at the early age Of nine
teen.
NV hen this shall reach your eye, dear
C, some day when YOU are turning
over the relics Of the past, shall have
passed away forever, and the cold white
stone will be keeping its lonely watch
over the lips you have so often pressed,
and the sod will be growing green that
shall hide forever from your sight the
dust Of one who has so often nestled
close TO your warm heart. For many
long and sleepless nights, when all be-
side my thoughts were at rest, have
wrestled the consciousness Of approach
ing death until at last it has forced itself
upon my mind; and although to you and
to others it might now seem but the
nervous lmaginations. Of girl, yet dear
C., it is sol Many weary hours
have passed in the endeavor 10 recon-
Gle myself to leaving YOU, whom | love
so well, and this bright world olsun-
shine and beauty; and hard indeed it is
to struggle on silently and alone with
the Sure c0nciction that am about to
leave all forever, and 90 down alone
into the dark valley! "But know in
whom have trusted" and leaning upon
His arm, 81 fear no evil" Don't blame
me for keeping even all rEs from you.
How could | subject you, of all others,
to such sorrow as feel at parting, when
time will soon make il apparent TO you!
Il could have wished to live, il only
to be at your side when your time shall
come, and pilIowing your head upon my
breast, vi pc the death-damps from your
brow, and usher your departing spirit
into its Makers presence cmLalmcd in
woman's hottest prayers. But it is not
to be so-and submit. Yours is the
privilege of watching, through long and
dreary nights, for the spirits final flight,
and Of transferring my sinking head
from your breast to my Sayiour'S bosom.
And you shall share my Ia thought;
the last faint pressure Of the hand, and
the last feeble kiss shall be yours; and
even when flesh and heart shall have
failed me, my eye shall rest on yours
until glazed by death; and our spirits
shall hold one last fond communion, UNI
til gently fading from view-the last
Of earth--you shall mingle with the first
bright glimpse of the unfading glories OF
that better world, where partings are
unknown. Well do know the spot,
dear c., where you will lay me.
Often have We stood by the place, and
af we watched the mellow sunset as it
glanced in quivering flashes through the
leaves, and FURNISHED the grassy mounds
around us with stripes OF FURNISHED gold,
cnch perhaps has thought that some one
of It's would come alone, and which ever
it might be, yoar name would be on the
stone. But we loved the spot; and |
know you'll love it none the less when
YOU see the same quiet sunlight linger
and play among the grass that grows
over your Mary's grave. | know you
you will 60 often alone, when | am laid
there, and my spirit will be with you
then, and whisper through the waving
branches, ~ an not lost, but gone for
eyer ~