The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1872-04-19
A Dying WHO to Her Husband.

n OyIAk WHO 10 kter HuDOonos
The following beautiful and touching lines
wife, some months beforeih her death, between
the leaves Of her scrap-book, where she knew
her husband would find them when she was
gone. They are full of sadness, and loving
woman's nature blooms in every line. Her
heart breathes forth its sad requiem on her
own grave. ss she lays herself down to sleep
all alone, and parts forever from him who
next. Wifel wifel how inexpreasibly holy the
name Of wifel She is all that is loft to man
Of the beautiful Paradise from which he has
wandered, and to which he must return. She
is all that holds man up from tho brute world
and stamps him with the pale semblance Of a
God. She is all OF Heaven, of Earth and Of
nuns future, which is left him. In this
world, she is his God, and the power which
elevates and guides and leads him on to the
natural and rational contamination of his
creation and mission. OF all the Joys Of
earth. it's wealth.. its ambition, it's tinseled
glories and scared pleasures, there is nothing
man as the companionship of his wife. Take
from us, o Godl all Thou hasI given-blot
out from our sight forever the beautiful
world, darken our path to midnight gloom,
curse us with afflictions mountain high, take
from us every floweret Of the hearth, despoil
Us OF manhood, feature and form-do all this,
II in Thy providence Thou wilt, but, o Godi
preserve to us from all the wreck,of life that
one dearest being Of enrth, q loving and true
wifel
Come near me, let me lay my hand
Once more upon thy brow,
And let me whisper in thine ear
Loves last and fondeHt VOW;
The lips that breathe these trembling words,
When they lie cold in death,
And thy dear cheek can feel nc moro
Their warm and loving breath.
go from thee; God only knows
How l have longed to stay--
How have shuddered thus to tread
a 1uh olar,
Faith tells me that Isoon must know
The love the blessed find,
And yet falter, while cast
lingering look behind.
see thee bowed before me here,
In bitterness and tears;
But can leave thee something still,
To light thy weary years;
Young tender forms will cling to thee
Perhaps will miss my tone,
And though they may not share thy grief,
Thou wilt not feel alone.
Fold them still closer to thy breast,
And soothe their childish woe,
And cheer the many lonely hours
The motherless must know.
Win sometimes make thee glad;
But they must lnger round the hearth
Still desolate and sad.
And. ol when time shall calm thy grief
Perchance the hour may come
When thou wilt win another form
To share thy heart and home
When thou wilt welcome to thy board
A younger, fairer face,
And bid thy children smile on her,
Who takes their mothers place.
But think not, could speak to thee,
That would frown or blame,
Though they should love the stranger ono.
And call her by my name;
For they will speak to thee of me,
My memory is their trust,
A word q amIle. lOok like nina
Will call me from the dust.
Yet make my grave no place OF tears,
@But let the dear ones bring,
10 cheer their mothers home,
The blossoms Of tho spring.
And there thou, too may'st kneel.
And softly press the earth
That covers her, whose face once gave
brightness to thy hearth.
Then will the forms of early years
Steal softly to thy eide,
And for an hour thou canst forget
Thou hast another bride.
She may be all thy heart can ask,
So dear, 80 true to thee;
But o, the spring time OF thy love.
Its freshness was for me.
May she be blest, who comforts theo,
And with gentle hand
Still guile our little trembling ones,
Who make our household band.
She cannot know the tenderness
That fiils their mothers breast,
But she can love them for thy sake,
And make thee moro than blestl
Acts nd 10 nj II eaoI n on fSa ase I'll nv the