The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1871-05-04
FARMERS COLUMN.
PUT THEM AWAY"
BY NJ. NJ. PoNERY.

How the ticking of the clock, unnoticed
at other times, stricken like hammer
of iron into the heart as we sit here to-
NIGHT. in a room Yesterday occupied by a
liyine. loving friend! Tonight, she is
At rest in the Golden Land. And we are
to mourn-not SO much that she is out of
pain and bodily agony, but that no more
on earth can we hear her voice-listen to
her encouraging words, look into her
ewes that SO eloquently mirrored to the
purity of her SOUL
Tomorrow, soon to be here, will be
the Sabbath. Day of rest-Day Of sad
ness ! for a dear good friend has already
in this life won her crown and place with
those who have passed on, while we are
left to win ours but with no more of
that help which came from her good
wishes, pure counsel, and beautiful, un
selfish friendship.
No one in the room with US save the
guardian spirits, with pure, loving
thoughts for us to give to each other.
What there is of her rests in another
room. The door is just ajar. All IS still
very still-in there. We listen-the
ticking of the clock-nothing more
Let us see Twenty years ago we sat
as nov. in a room much like this, while
q friend, or the temple in which he once
dwelt rested in room adjoining. Then
we were not at rest, as now. The wind
bowled without. We were afraid-un-
easv. There seemed then to come shad-
ow of terror from the waiting room"
Were YOU ever afraid to be with dead
body. Did you ever fear to be alone
with death? IF so we pity you, if your
wears are gone, before there came to us q
light as came to one long since--as comes
to many who are deserving. But to
night we are not afraid Why should
we be? There is nothing there TO harm
u.s. Only lesson-that our home is not
here While we are at work, she is at
rest.
Others mourn with us. They lie in
restless beds, to waken in fearful sorrow
while we keep watch of the flying hours.
each passing away with souls going from
here to the beautiful Land of the Real.
This was her room. 0 Memories
Wherever the eye rests there is something
to remind us of the absent one. There
is little watch case, nearly finished, as
she left it to wait her recovery There
is a book in which she read but three
DAYS ago Here is little ribbon worn
in her hair. 1t is too sacred to touch-so
we kiss it with tear wet eyes. She is
gone it is so still here ! 1t is so lone
some for those who have to be all alone
to look at the little articles worn or used
by the absent one, We pity, oh! so deep
Iy-those who weep, and watch, and pray
those who are left to wait in the storms
of life, while the loved one waits on the
distant sunny shore,
There is a slipper once worn upon the
foot now so cold and lifeless. In that lit
tie desk-it was hers--are letters and
scraps, and kind words from others to
her. In that little jewel-box is a ring
and few other articles more precious
than wealth, because they were hers.
All about the room we see her still.
Oh, Father in Heaven-why is she
not here with her kind woIds--her pure
love-her eyes so full of beautiful Ian
guage? Why cannot those who love go
home together when so true to each other
do they walk the paths of life here?
When we part some day, if only for
time, why do VIC not live better, purer,
truer, more loving for each other than
for self? We cannot find our way or live
our life alone so we'll as with heart
united.
Then, good angel, mercifnl death, come
for those who are left to mourn, and bear
us as them, from pain to ease-from
tears to smiles-from grief to joy--from
separating to uniting. Then you will be
welcome-welcome, welcome visitor,
and we reach forth 10 call you to US,
as a babe reaches for the hands that are
to bear it to the bosom of love.
On the walls are pictures she has arrang-.
ed. She made everything SO homelike.
She gave beauty to the room and house.
All about are evidences of her work and
care, for good women are so much more
thoughtful than most men. Here and
. there are evidences that she lived and
loved. Garments she wore till it seems
now as if a portion Of her life was left
therein, so much did she individualize
everything about her.
See therel A necklace worn about her
neck from-let us see? Months and
months and months ago. What Joy filled
the heart of the one who placed it there,
when she said
81 thank you, so much for it p We
heard her say it-and she knew the one
that gave it was happy because she was.
What makes the tears come so? She has
gone-6ut she ae herei
Put them carefully away, these pre-
cious lit e articles Let no rough hand
disturb them. Put them away with tears,
and when tired of this battle of life, look
at them, think of the absent one, thank
God that there is beautiful Land of the
& Leal,. where those who truly loved on
earth will meet, and live, and rest and
walk and work delightedly and delight
fully together, whore thought is the i'm.
plement and minds of mon the
field of labors for ages and AGES to come