The weekly Anglo-African. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1859-1861, 1859-11-19
LETTER OF A DYING WIFE.

The following most touching fragment
of letter from dying wife to her hus-
band was found by him some months at
ter her death, lying between the leaves
of religious volume, which she was very
fond of perusing. The letter, which was
literally dim with 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, / shall have
passed away forever, and the cold, white
stone WILDE 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 sleepless
nights, when all besides my thoughts were
at rest, 1 have wrestled with the conscious
ness of approaching death, until at last it
has formed itself upon my mind and
although to you, and to others, it might
now seem but the nervous imaginings of
girl, yet, dear George, it's so Many
weary hours have l passed in the endeav-
or to reconcile myself to leaving you,
whom l love so well, and this bright world
of sunshine and beauty and hard indeed
it is to struggle on silently and alone with
the sure conviction that l am about to
leave all forever and go down into the
dark valley But | know in whom |
have believed, and leaning on hi arm
fear no evil Do not blame me .or
keeping all this from you. How could l
subject you, of all others, to such sor-
row as [ feel at parting, when time will
soon make it apparent to your l could
have wished to live if only to be at your
side when your time shall come, and pill
lowing your head upon my breast, wipe
the death damps from your brow, and
usher your departing spirit into its Makers
presence, embalmed in woman's hottest
prayer But it is not to be, and l submit.
Yours is the privilege of watching, through
long and dreary nights, for the spirits fl
nal flight, and of transferring my sinking
head from your breast to my Saviors bo-
som! 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 un-
til glazed by death and our spirits shall
hold one last communion until gently IA
ding from my view-the last of earth
you shall mingle with the first bright
glimpses of the unfading glories of the
better world, where partings 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 quiyering flashes
through the leaves, and furnishing the
grassy mounds around us with stripes of
FURNISHED 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 l know you will love it none
the less when you see the same quiet sun
light finger and play among the grass that
grows over your Nary's grave. / know
you will go there, ali my spirit will be with
you then, and whisper among the waving
branches-I am notlost, but gone before"