The weekly Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1854-1861, 1857-05-21
Letter or N Dying wife 70. her
Husband.


The following most touching fragment Of
a letter from a dying wife 10 her husband.
was foundry him some months after her
death, between the leaves Of religious vol
ume, which she was very fond Of perusing.
The letter, which was literally dim with
tear marks, was written long before the hus
band was aware that the grasp Of a fatal dis
ease had fastened Spon the lovely form Of
his wife, who died at the early age Of nine.
teen.
"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 it's lonely watch over the
lips you have so often pressed, and the cod
will be growing green that shall hide for.
ever from your sight the dust Of one who has
often nestled close to your warm heart. For
many long and sleepfess nights. when all
beside my thoughts were at rest, have wres.
tied with the consciousness of approaching
death, until at last il has forced itself upon
my mind; and although 10 you and to others
it might now seem but the nervous imsgin.
ings of a girl, yet, dear George, ii is sot-
Many weary hosrs have I passed in the en-
deavor to reconcile myself to leaving you,
whom love so well, and this bright world
Of sunshine and beauty; aud hard indeed it
ia to struggle on silently and alone with the
sure conuiction that am about to leave al
fOreyer. and GO down alone into the dark
valley! But know in whom ! have be.
fieved,' and leaning upon His arm y fear ne
evi.' Do not blame me for keeping even
all this from you. How could ] subject yoa,
of oll otAers, to such sorrow as feel at
parting, when time will SO soon make il ap.
pasent TO you! I could have wished to live.
IL only 10 be, at your side when yoar time
shall come, and pillowing your head upon
my breast, wipe the death dumps from youi
hrow, nnd'usher your dc parting spirit into
It's Makers presence, embalmed in wonan''
holiest prayer. But it is, not SO to be-
and | submit Yours is the privilege o
watching, through long and dreury night
or the spirits final fl ght, and of transfe
ring my ing head from your breast tt
my Sar iov's bosom! And you shall share
my last thought; the last faint pressure o
the hand, and the last feeble kiss shall b
yours: and even when fesh and heart shal
have failed me my eye shall rest on your
until glazed by death; and our spirit sha
hold one last fond communion, until genti
fading from my view--the last ofearth '-yo
shall mingle with the first bright glimpse
Of the unfading glories Of that better work.
where par,ings are unknown. Well do
know the spot, dear George, where you wi
lay ME; often have we stood by the place
and as we watched the mellow sun set as
glanced in quivering flashes through th
leaves, and FURNISHED the grassy mount
around ns with stripes Of Furnished gol
each perhaps has thought that some or
g of US would come alone, and whichever
y might be, yodr name would be on the ston
J, But we loved the spot; and know you wi
, love it none the less when you see the san
quiet sunlight linger and play among Il
$, gross that grows over your Mary's grave.
d know you will 90 often alone there, when
d um laid there, and my spirit will be with "
then. and whisper among the waving branc
es, lam not lost but gone before:' "