Fremont journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County [Ohio]) 1853-1866, 1856-10-24
ThouRh Dead, She Vet speaJketh.

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, in her life, had been favorite
with her. The letter, which when found
was literally dim with tear-marks, was writ
ten before the husband was aware that the
grasp ofa 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
George, some day when you are turning
over the relics of the past, l shall have pass
ed away forever, and the cold white stone
will be keeping its lonely watch over the
lips yea have so often pressed, and the sod
will be growing green that shall hide for
ever 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 beside my thoughts was at rest, l
have wIestled with the consciousness of ap-
preaching 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 imaginings of girl, yet dear
George, 1t IS so! Many weary hours have
1 passed in the endeavor to reconcile myself
to leaving you, whom l love so well, and
this bright world of sunshine and beauty;
and hard it is to struggle on silently and
alone with the sure CONNECTION that l. am a.
bout to leave all forever and go down alone
into the dark valley! But know in whom
1 have believed and leaning upon His arm
4 fear no evil Do not blame me for keep
ing all this even from you. How could l
subject you, of all Others, to such sorrow as
l feel at parting, when time will soon make
it apparent to you? l 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-damp from
your brow, and usher your departing spirit
into its Makers presence, embalmed in wo-
mans holiest prayer.-But it is not to be
and submit. Yours is the privilege of
watching, through long and dreary nights,
for the spirits final fight 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 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 communion, until gently fading
from my view-the last of earth-you shall
mingle with the first glories ofthat better
world, where partings are unknown. Well
do know the spot, dear George, where you
will lay me: often have we stood by the
place and as we watched the mellow sunset
as it glanced its quivering flash through the
leaves, and Furnished the grassy mounds
around US with stripes of busnished gold, |
each perhaps has thought that some day
one of us would come alone, and whichev-
er it might be, your name would be on the
stone. But we loved that spot; and l know
You'll love it none the less when you see
the same quiet sunlight linger and play
among the grass that grows over Mary's
grave. l know you'll go often alone there,
when am laid there, and my spirit will be
with you then and, whisper among the wa
wing branches, 4 am not lost, but gone be-
fore 7"