Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1858-04-23
LETTER OF DYING WIFE.

The following most touching fragment
of letter from a dying wife to her hus-
banl, was found some months after her
death between the leaves of religions
volume which she was very fond of peru
sing. The letter, which was literally
dim with tear marks, was written long be-
fore her husband was aware that the
grasp of fatal disease had fastened upon
the lovely form of his wife, who died at
the age of nineteen:
"Whcn this shall reach your eve. dear
George, some day when yoa 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
shall hide forever from your sight the
dust Of one who has often nestled close to
your warm heart For many long and
sleerless nights. when all but my thoughts
were at rest. haze wrestlcd with the
consciousness Of approaching death, until
at last i. has forced itself upon my mind;
and althc III to you, to others. it might
seem but the nervous imagining of a
girl, yet, dear George. it is so. Many
weary nights have | passsd iii the endeav-
or to reconcile myself to leaving you.
whom | love so we'll and this bright
world of sunshine and beauty; AMI hard
indeed is it TO struggle on silently and
alcne with the sure conviction that am
about to leave all forever and 90 down
into the dark valley. But. know in
whom | have believed. and leaning on
His arm. | fear no evil
=" Do not blame me or keeping even
all this from you. How coald I subject
You Of all others. to such sorrow as !
feel at parting, when timo will make it
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
damps from Your brow, and usher vour
departing spirit into its Makers presence
in woman's hottest PRAYER
But it is not to bc-and | submit. Yours
IS the privilege Of watching, through long
and drcary nights, for the spirits flight,
and 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 in death and our spirits
shall hold communion, until gently faded
from my view the last of earth-you
shall mingle with the first bright glimpses
of the unfding 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 qniv-
ering flashes through the leaves. and
FURNISHED the grassy mound around US
with stripes of FURNISHED gold, each, per-
haps has thought that some day one Of
us would come alone, and whichever it
might be, your name would be on the
stone. But we ye the spot and know
you will love it none the less when you
see the same sunlight linger and play
among the grass that grows over yoar
Marys grave. know you will 20 there
and my spirit will be with you then, and
whisper among The waving branches: Il
AIN not lost, but gone before