Alexandria gazette. [volume] (Alexandria, D.C.) 1834-1974, 1858-03-13
NO. g..
MISCELLANEOUS READING.
LETTER OF A DYING WIFE TO HEX
HUSBAND

The following touching fragment OF let
ter from dying wife to her husband. was
found by him some months after her death, be-
tween the leaves Of a religious volume, which
she was very fond of perusipg. The letter
was written long before her 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.
"Wben this shall reach your eye, dear
George, some day when you are turning over
the relics of the past, shall have passed away
forever, and the cold white stone VIII %
keeping its lonely watch over the lips, you
have so often pressed, and the SOD VIII %
growing green that shall hide forever IRON
YOUR sight the dust Of one who has often
nestled close to your warm heart. For many
long and sleepless nights, when all besides
nv thoughts were at rest, | have wrestled
with the consciousness of approaching death,
until at last it has formed itself upon my
mud; and although TO you, to others, II might
now seem but the nervous imagining OF
girl yet, dear George it is so. Many weary
hours have passed in the endeavor to recon
cile myself to leave you, whom love so well,
and this bright world ofsuDshine and beauty:
and hard indeed it is to struggle on silently
and alone with the sure conviction that am
about to leave all forever and 90 down into
the dark valley! "But | know in whom 1
have believed" and leaning on his arm, 81
fear no evil" Do not blame me for keeping
even all this from you. How could SOD
iect you, of all others, to such sorrow as
feel 1T parting, when time will soon make 1t
apparent to you? | could have wished to live
if only to be at your side when your time
shall come, and pilowing your head upon my
breast, wipe the death damps fron your brow
and usher your departing spirit into the
Makers presence, embslmed in woman's ho-
liest PRAYER. But it is not to be-snd | sub
NIT. Yours is the privilege o: watching,
through long and drcary nights, for the
spirits final fight, and of transferring my
sinking head from your breast to my Sa-
viour's bosom. And you shall share my last
thought. and the last faint pressure OF the
hand, and the last feeble kiss shall be yours;
and even when flesh and heart shall have taIl-
ed me, my eyes 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 earih-you shall miDge
With the first bright gimpses of The unta-
ding glores Of the better world, where part
iugs are unknown. Well do know the spot.
my dear George, where you will lay me; often
we stood by the place, and as we watched the
mellow sunset as it glanced in quiveriog
flashes through the leaves and FURNISHED the
grassy mounds around US with the stril es Of
FURNISHED gold, each perhaps has thought
that some day one of US would come alone,
and which ever it might be, your name would
be on the stone. But we loved the spot, and
| know you will love it none the less when
you see the same quiet sunlight linger and
play among the grass that grows over your
Mary's grave. know you will 90 there, and
my spirit will be with you then, and whls-
per among the waving branches-"l am not
lost, but gone before"