Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1856-05-29
For an instant the pale lips quivered but
commanding herself the young girl replied

For an instant the pale lips quivered but
commanding herself the young girl replied
gently:
Il want you to talk to me CT death-of
my own death which is certain soon.
My Amy! was all the mother could ar
ticulate her voice seemed frozen by horror
Yes, mother; for, listen a moment, it will
plake your poor sick child moro willing to
leave earth and find heaven. If you will
talk daily and cheerluly of my passing a.
way if you will surround the thought with
choerfuness, and make tho struggle seem
pleasant to me, this strange horror with which
| regard it would fade away and my mind be
drawn more wholly to the better land: IL
may be sacrifice to your mother, but ! snail
learn to look forward to my death bed with
calmness, which nov strive in vain to 90.
Will you try to do this, mother? WIZ you
talk Of it often; will you repeat the sweet
words that dying saints have spoken will
you speak of the smiles that repose upon
their faces, until I can think cheerfully, and
talk without reserve of that change, even as
l would lie down. and put my garments by
ready to attire myself when l should awake
in the fair morning? Will you tell those who
call to SEQ me never to shrink from speaking
to me of death? Will you do this, mother :
The matron promised, and retired to hel
chamber, to shed the tears of anguish born Of
this request. She too, had long felt that hel
child must die, but had put afar off the evi
day And in the strength of God she perform
ed her duty.
Seven months had passed, and still gentle
Amy lived. The fatal crimson burnt 1T
death fire into her cheek, and her eye
cleaned with tho ftful flash OF disease; bu
about her sweet lips lowered u costant smile
the had conquered her fear of the king o
sorrors, and dwet upon hor departure will
almost exulting joy. Il knew that throu,s'
Christ 1 was prepared to CO. she said to he
PASTOR knew there was glories in TIT
bright world above, that the imagination can
not conceive of; yet have sbuddered iron
my infancy at death. The thought Of disso
luton with its icy chill, and quivcring breath
made me cold at my heart, and strive t
forget it but cannot. Yet, since you, sine
my mother, since all who know me hay
made it a familiar household word-clothe
it with beautiful thoughts, and surrounded
with heavenly images, it has become less an
less terrible, till now I can hold my hand
him who unlocks the spirit, and say, "deat
where is thy sting7"
As she spoke thus a ray from the settln
sun imaged crown Of glory upon her ia
brow. Her mother and friends at that mt
nlcnt entered
Hush" said the pastor, with uplifte
lhands, and they stood trans6xed. With th'
last holy smile that had marked an instantt
neous change; and as he bent forwar'
through the lips so beautifully wrcathe
there came no breath.
well might she excaim, " Death whe
is thy sting said the pastor, turning wi
fearful eyes "never saw the king OF tie
rors in so lovely garb. How sweet 81
sleeps"
Aye! sweetly still in a grave yard upt
the hill side; and on the white shaft tn
bears her name, some loving hand has CHI
elled,
"H is MT hard to die. "