The Yazoo City weekly Whig. (Yazoo City, Miss.) 18??-1855, 1853-11-18
OBITUARY..

OBITUARY..
q Whom the gods love, die young, was said Of
yore,
And many deaths do they escape by this
The death Of friends, and that which Stays even
The death of friendship, youth, love, all that is
more
Except mere breath-vand sincethe silent shore,
Awaits even those who longest miss
The old archers' shaft, perhaps theearly grave
Ger which men weep, may be but meant to
save"
DIED-In this vicinity, on the 18th of Sep
TENDER, 1863, Of yellow fever, Mrs. PAULINE
PERRY, wife of Mr.. John Wilson, and sister
Of Mrs. n G. Nye, of this city.
OF all the deaths that have made desolate
hearths and mourning hearts in our midst, dur
ing the terrible visitation Of the late pestience,
none have been more severly felt and deeply
mourned than that Of this lovely and amiable
woman. Mrs. Wilson was dearly and deeply
loved by all that knew her. AS young lady
she was admired and almost adored by large
circle of friends and acquaintances-and as
wife and mother she was lovely bxemplifica-
ton Of the beauty Of happy domestic life. No
one could know her but to love her, or notice
her quiet meek life, passed in the bosom of al
idolzing family, without respecting and sdmir-
ing her But She las gone eay 70 the rest
prepared 81 tie pure heaft and the guilelcss
gene mere the pangs of separation from
friends are never felt-where the flowers
never wither and the springs never dry-where
sickness and death and sorrow and care, can
never disturb her bright happiness 1t seems
strange that God in his wisdom, should take
away the young and the beautiful from little
infants and agonized friends, and spare the old
and weary, who have drained the cup of sorrow
and look forward to death as a release from
suffering; and we can only account for such
dispensatons, by believing that He takes his
little ones in his arms to save them from the
evil to come, but leaves them here little while
to show how BIZ autiful human nature may be.
Mrs. Wilson's devoted husband, only survived
her few days. Long attention to the siek and
dying on his place, and the agony Of seeing his
young and cherished wife fall victim to
the fever, left him no strength to battle with
the disease whel ne upon him, few
days after his''wife's death We have lett r
before US which he wrote to Mrs. Nye when he
sent his little motherless babes to her to take
care Of and keep till he called for them. Mr..
Wilson had for some time before his death
been in ill-health and had been away during
the summer to recruit it. A husbands COM
mendation is the brightest crown that woman
can lave in this world, and we give almost the
dying testimony of Mr., ]. l. Wilson to the
many virtues of his lovely wife. He lived, we
belieye,bu week after penning the following
beautiful tribute to her memory:
otis useless, my sister, to say one word re-
garding. her who was 50 dear to me, and who
honored me with the name OF husband..-As a
wife, hope none lives, who doubted she de-
served the name of the most noble and virtuous
among women, if there be, shall deem it
sacrilege In her life, her affections were given
too much to her husband and children, in death,
they were given to Him who stood ready to
wait her spotleas soul to the realms Of bliss
o, how happy am this day to believe she
watches from her holy habitaton, her husband
and little onesl Nor. shall she watch without
reward. i will, onward in life. bend my steps
there-ny children shall be raised and eaucat-
ed. God willing, to meet her angel smile."
What epitaph or memorial can equal such
eulogy. What woman woula give such tes-
timony to her goodness and virtues from one
that knew her best, for the adulation Of the
gay and thoughtless world!
We know that the voice Of comnendation
is poEerIess in the grave, and that tiattery can
not soothe
The dull cold ear Of death,
but the bright example If the dead, should 81
held up Cor imitation Is Others to follow.
LET me die the death Of the righteous and may
ny last end Be like his Is prayer frequently
uttered; but We must remember If we would
de the death 81 the good, We must live their
lives, Or we have no promise that our last end
VIII Sc like theirs peace.
Sister thou vert mild and lovely,
Gentle Is tie summers breeze.
Pleasant as the ali Of evening,
when 1t floats among the treea
Dearest sister, thou hast let us,
Here thy loss we deeply feel;
But 'tis God has tins bereit us,
He can all on oWs heal.
But again NE hope 10 meet thee,
When the Day u ice IS heds
There 81 IeaVeh once more & greet the
Where Eio farewell tea alle