Georgetown weekly news., 1854-11-30
From the Knickerbocker Magazine.
A Dying Wife to Her Husband

The following most touching fragment of
letter from dying wife to her husband,
was found by him, some months after her
death, between the leaves of a RELIGIOUS vol
ume, 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 nineteen:
"When this shall reach your eye, dear
t., some day when you are turning
over the relics of the past, | shall have
passed away forever, and the old 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 forev-
er 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 my thoughts were at rest, | have wres-
tied with the consciousness of approaching
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 imagi-
nations of a girl, yet, dear c., 1t IS
so! Many weary hours have passed in the
endeavor to reconcile myself to leaving you,
whom [ love so well, and this bright world
of sunshine and beauty; and, hard, indeed,
is it to struggle on silently and alone, with
the sure ConUicti0n that | am about to leave
all forever and go down alone into the dark
valley! But | know in whom have trus-
ted, and, leaning upon His arm, i fear no
evil Don't blame me for keeping even all
this from you. How could [ subject you, of
all others, to such sorrow as I feel at parting
when time will so soon make it apparent to
you? could have wished to live, if only
to be at your side when your time shall
come, and pillOwing your head upon my
breast, wipe the death damps from your
brow, and usher your departing spirit into
its Makers presence, embalmed in woman s
holiest prayer But it is not to be so-and
[ submit.
Yours is the privilege of watching, thro'
long and dreary nights, for the spirits final
flight, and of transferring my sinking head
from your breast to my Savior's BOSOM
And you shall share my last thought; the
last faint pressure of my 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 till glazed by death-and
our spirits shall hold one last fond commu-
Mon, until gently fading from my view-the
last of earth-you shall mingle with the first
bright glimpses of the unfading glories OF
that better world, where partings are un-
known. Well do l know the spot, dear
c., where you will lay me; often have
we stood by the place, and as we watched
the mellow sunset as it glanced in quivering
flashes through the leaves and FURNISHED the
grassy mounds aronnd US with stripes OF
FURNISHED gold, each perhaps has thought
that one of US would come alone; and which
ever it might be, your name would be on
the stone. But you loved the spot; and !
know you'll love me none the less when you
see the same quiet sunlight linger and play
among the grass that grows over your Ma
ry's grave. l know you'll 90 often alone
there, when am laid there, and my spirit
will be with you then, andi whisper among
the waving branches, Il am nat lost but gone
before'