The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1858-12-23


LETTER OLA DYING WIFE.-The fol-
lowing most touching fragment of let
ter from dying wife to her husband
| (says The EaShUjHe Gozeue) was found
by him, some months after her death,
between the leaves of religious volume
which she was very fond Of perusing. The
letter, which was literally dim with her
tear marks, 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 50 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 sleep.
less nights, when all beside my thoughts
were at rest, have rested with con-
sciousness ofapproaching death, until at
last in has forced itself upon my mind
and although to you and to others ii
might now seem but the nervous mag
lining Of girl, yet, dear George, it is sol
Many weary nights have l passed in the
endeayor to reconcile myself to leaving
you, whom | loved so WE'LL and this
bright world of sunshine and beauty; and
hard indeed it is to struggle on silently
and alone, with the sure conviction lhat
am about to leave all foreverand so down
into a dark valley! "But | know in whom
| have believed" and leaning on His
arm, j fear no evil" Do not blame me
for keeping even all this from you. How
could | subject you, of all others, to
such sorrow as ] feel at parting, when
time will soon make it apparnet to you'll
| could have wished to live, if only to be
at your side when your time shall come,
and plIowng your head on my breast,
wipe the deat.hdamp from your brow
and usher your departing spirit into its
Makers presence. embalmed in woman's
holest prayer. But tits not to be, and |
submit. Yours is the privilege Of watch
ing, through long and dreary nights, for
the spirits final flight, AMI oftranslerring
my sinking head from your breast to my
Sayiors bosom And you shall share
my last thonght and the last faint press.
ure 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 spirits shall hold one last commun
ion until gently fading from my view
the last Of earth--you shall mingle
with the first bright gliIfSses of the un-
fading glories Of the better world, where
partings are unknown. Well do know
The spot, my dear George, where you
willlay me; often we have stood by the place
and as we watched the mellow sunset, as
if glancing in quiyering flashes through
the leaves, and Furnished the grassy
mounds around us with Stripes of burn
ished gold, each, perhaps, 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
loved the spot, and know you will love
it none the less, when you see the same
quiet sunlight linger and play among theI
grass that grows over your Marys grave,
| know you will go there, and my spirit
will be with you then, and whisper among
the waving branches--"I am not lost,
but gone before"