The Weekly Kansas chief. [volume] (Troy, Kan.) 1872-1918, 1876-03-23
LETTER OF A DYING WIFE

The following most touching fragment of let
ter from a dying wife to her husband, (says the
Nashville Gazette, was found by him, some months
after her death, between the leaves OF religious
volume which she was fond of perusng. The
letter. which was literally dim with ar-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 ut 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 will be 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 beside
my thoughts were at rest, have wrestled with
the Consciousness of approaching death, until at
last it has forced itself npon my mind; and al
though to you and others it might now seem but
the nervous imagining of girl, yet, dear George,
it is SOL Many weary nights have passed in
the endeavor to reconcile myself to leaving you,
whom loved so WELL and this bright world of
sunshine and beauty; and hard indeed it is to
struggle on silently and alone, with the sure con-
victiOn that am about to leave all forever, and
90 down into the dark valley! "But know in
whom have believed" and leaning on His arm
Il 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 apparent to youi /
could have wished to live, if only to be at your
side when your time shall come, and, pillowing
your head on my breast, wipe the death -damps
from your brow, and usher your departing spirit
into its Makers presence, enbalmed in woman's
holiest prayer. But it is not to be, and Sc bmt.
Yours is the privilege of watching through long
and dreary nights for the spirits final flight, and
of transferring my sinking head from yOnr breast
to my Saviour's bosom! 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 yours until glazed by death;
and our spirits shall hold one last communion I'M
til gently fading from my view-the last of earth
You shall mingle with the first bright glimpses
of the unfading glories of the better world where
paintings are unknown. Well do l know the SPOT
my dear George, where you will lay me often
have We stood by the place, and as we watched the
yellow sunset, as it glanced in quivering flashes
through the leaves, and FURNISHED the grassy
mounds around us with stripes of FURNISHED gold,
each perhaps has thought that some day one of
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 quet sunlight linger
and play among the grass that grows over yOnr
Mary's grave. l 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"