The Pickens sentinel. [volume] (Pickens, S.C.) 1871-1903, 1884-10-09
E3 3-: &C.: Given up to Die.

A languor that amounts to pain, q
weariness that shuts out tho blue skies
and makes the fragrant summer nj
hard to breathe; n slow consciousness
in all the limbs of weakness and in
crtiai q longing for skies that are bluer,
n thirst for airs that are fresher--these
are the sensations that como to those
whose sun is going down at noon-who
in the full promise of q long life como
suddenly to tho edge of tho shorelcss
sea.
1t is not all pain. The 'light that
never was on sea or land" forcshadows
the confines of that other country.
There is rest sweet rcst beyond. No
more wearinoss and disappointment;
no more care. No bearing tho heavy
burden, no MISUNDERSTANDING, no
broken faith; these comet to all who go
on living in this world---they are tho
heritage of mortality.
We have cheerful words and God
speed for the friend who gocs on q
Journey, hore, q journey that may be
full Of disaster; but for the pilgrim
that COOS higher wo have only tears.
Going to the palace of the King! going
to be the guest of angels. but oh! how
reluctant we are to say not good-by or
AaroWell, put adlou!
"Oh fond, oh fool, and blind,
10 God give with tcars
But when man like grace would find
My soul puts by her fears
There is one going out of the family
this lovely summer timc-onc wc hayo
loved and cherished The doctor has
said gravcly, "Thcrc is no hope" and
ceased to come. There is nothing to
do but to wait. The dear one who is
going on the long journey is tho least
disturbed. There is no making ready.
The frail sufferer lies in the hammock
or sits in tho reclining chair, and with
closed eyes drifts on to that silent,
shoreloss sea. OF what do the diving
thinkP How doesn't seem to withdraw
from the busy, bustling world. and be
no moro n part of itP-to feel the life
trembling on the pale lips; to know
that He has given His angels charge
concerning theep
IF were told that should die tomorrow,
That the next sun that sinks would bear mo
past all fear and sorrow
For anyone;
All the tight fought-all the short Journey
What Should do?"
These dear ones who are leaving us.
fading day by day in this lovely sum
mer weather, are tho evangels of love
to guide us to the nights of unselfish-
ness. 1t is our privilege to minister to
them. to soften every step rs it nears
the end, to stand with mute thanks.
giving in the light of tho coming
Eplendor, and behold the chariot Of
Israel and the horsemen thereof
ut is perpetual summer thcrc. But hero
Sadly may wc remember rivers clear
And harebells quivering on tho meadow
floor.
Far brighter bells and bluer
Far tcnderer hearts and truer,
People that happy land-'Tis the land of
Evermorc."
Given up to die! This is the fiat of
doom whispered in sorrowful accents
to heart-broken friends. Why not
"given up to livo," called before tho
noon of life TO enter upon the rest and
reward?
IF we could push ajar tho gates of life
And stand within and all Gods workings
see,
We would interpret all this doubt and strife
And for each mystery find key.
But not to-day. Then be content, Door heart :.
Gods plans like lilies, puro and white, un.
We must not tear the c!ose-shut leaves apart,
Time will reveal the calyxcs OF gold"
Detroit Free Press.