Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1858-03-10
LETTER OF A DYING WIFE TO HER
f.s..-H HUSBAND.

The following touching fragment of q letter
from dying wife to her husband, was found
by him some months after her death, between
leaves of religious volume, which she was
very fond Of perusing. 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:
when this shall reach your eye, dear George,
some day when You are turning over the relics
OF the past, L shall have passed away forever,
and the cold white stone will be keeping its
lonely watch over the lips you have so often
pressed, and the sod will be growing green that
snail hide forever from your sight the dust of
one who has often nestled close to your warm
heart. For many long and sleepless nights,
when all besides my thoughts were at rest
have wrestled with the consciousness of ap-
preaching death, until at last it has formed
itself upon my mind; and although to you, to
others it might now seem but the nervous i'm
agining of a girl, yet dear George, it is so !.
Many weary hours have passed in the en-.
deavor to reconcile myself to leave you, whom
love so well, and this bright world of sun
shine and beauty and hard indeed il IA to
struggle on silently and alone with the sure
conviction that L am about to leave all forever
and 90 down into the dark valley. "But |
know in whom L have believed" and leaning
on his arm, II fear NO evil" Do not blame
could subject you, of all others, to such sor-
row as feel at parting, when time will soon
make 1t apparent to you? Icould 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 the
Maker 8 presence, embalmed in woman s holi.
est prayer. But it is not to be-and submit.
Yours is the privilege of watching. through
long and dreary nights, for the spirits's final
flight, land of transferring my sinking head
from your breast to my Saviour'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 failed me, my eyes shall rest
on yours until glazed by death and our spir-
Its shall hold one last communion until gently
fading from my view-the last of earth-you
shall mingle with the first bright glimpses of
the unfadiDg glories Of the better world, where
partings are unknown. Well do I 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 auiyering
flashes through the leaves and FURNISHED the
grassy mounds around US with the stripes 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
en- 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 young Mary:s
grave. l know you will 60 there, and nv
spirit will be with you then, and whisper
among the waving branches am not lost,
but gone BEFORE