The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1850-1873, 1871-09-15
DIED..

Near Paris, Tenn, Sept, End, 1871, Mrs.
SUSAN A. WHITE, native of Marry County.
She was a Methodist, and good woman.
In this county, August 2sth, Mrs. JULIA
a. ASHTON, widow of the late James ii. Ashton,
and a daughter of the venerable John Butler,
of Bear Creek. Mrs. ASHTON was most esti-
mable lady, and will be greatly needed, and by
none so much as her interesting family of
young children.
On the 3rd inst, of Group, at the residence
of Maj. Geo. LipscOmb, of this county. little
HARRIE ToDD LIPsCONB, only son of William
aud Laura Lipscomb, aged two years and TWEEN
ty-nine days.
While devoted, heart broken mother was
vainly calling him back to life. a fond faith
err sobbing tears of agonizing grief, an affec-
tionate grandmother giving vent to feelings of
love in means of deep distress, and a doting
grandfather wiping the death damp of his
row, the spirit of little HAREIB took its fight
from Earth to Heaven. S"mpathyzing friends
stood round mingling their tears of SORROW
with those of the bercaved parents. Yet al
,,erc insufficient to restrain the Hcaven-bOund
spirit from mounting aloft to its mansion of
bliss. A brighter ior more lovely child than
little HARR.E never lived to cheer the hearts OF
Till q few months before his death, the life
of the deG.' little fiiop had, for the most part,
been one of suffering. The terrible malay of
which he died had several times before, near
ly taken him off, while the intervals between
were often times of suffering from other q s.
eases, yet so patiently did he bear his suffer
| ings, and the denial of almost every childish
pleasure that he drew f ON all who knew him.
the most sympathizing expressions of admira-
ton. A few months before his death, his
health improved, the rosy tint mantled his
check, yigOr sparkled in his eyes, his tiny feet
in hcetness Obeycd the elasticity of his limbs,
and the hope OF long life extinguished the fear
of early death. Yet how short-livod that hope !;
The messenger came when least expected and
little HABRIE is no more! Just as the sun sent
his last rays DER field and meadow, as 1t were
kissing the earth in a fond good night, then
mounting high to deck the throne of Heaven.
| one lingering ray seemed to catch the spirit OF
the dear child rs i.eScapcd fr,m its earthly pri.
son, and to bear IL on its wave to the portals Of
| bliss then came The beautiful stars, arraycd
| in Heavenly brightness, and welcomed iitslc
HARRIE to his seat among the angels. W.
In this city on the 9th inst, Mrs. NANCY
KEEF, aged about 10 years.
Scarce had the curfcw tolIcl the kncIl Of de-
parted day, when dark eyed Azrael lowering on
the confines claimed another victim. Swectly
She has closed her life like flowers at set OF
sun" But why should any grieye when We
remember that three score years'andtcn had sill
vercd her hair and furrowed her check, but
which we now believe is being rcjuycnated by
the touch of Uim'w no gave. The aged pilgrim
has. anchored her bark; no longer a pilgrim
on fffe's treacherous ocean. Sustained by an
unfaltcring trust, she has reached that Cclcsti-
nj CITY. sparkling with dcws, where no blight
or shadow shall fall upon 1t.
One by one we have seen the family circle
broken and but one link remain to complete
the chain which God has removed and fast
enel firm to the skies" lie has only taken
the home centre, thereby drawing our afee-
tions to the upper sphere.
The family home is Paradise. There the
bond of parent and child is indissolublc.
When our mother has gone. what an enticing
beacon-light beckons Us to the haven of rest.
"a mothers love, the fadeless light
That glimmers on our weary way,
A star amid tho clouds of night,
An ever burning, quenchless ray.
With her only child VIC mourn her loss. for
We two haye,felt the heavy hand of the spoiler.
death is but the portal to a happier world, and
no doubt, from her starlit home. she would
whisper to her child in the holy hush Of night
and invite her to a seat by her side. We con-
iurc YOU dry the starting tear
'.Yct shall VIC call them back once more,
To breast the troubled ocean?
No, rest on yOnder happy shore
Where storms ne or come nor tcmpcsts roar,
Al Il hushed iife's wild commotion.
'.W ask not back our dead again,
No! though our learts are breaklng;
Though all our pulses thTCb with pain,
Tho scarce our grief we can contain.
We ask rot now their waking"