The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1891-04-17
SCENE AT A GRAVE.
To the Editor Of the Eagle.

To the Editor OF the Eagle
Strolling in the cemetery yesterday l
saw four men bearing from the vault to a
grave small coffin, following was lady
and gentleman bowed with grief. l ap-
preached near and found they were laying
to rest the remains of little Marie Nc
ClelIan, whose death was announced but
few days since in the EAGLE. They low
cred her gently down in the grave, tnen
quietly and silently they laid in the clay
and formed it into shape. Then with gen.
tie hands the man laid boquets Of white
roses and lilies of the valley on the little
mound until it was covered with the
beautiful white flowers. Silently: sorrow-
fully, the father and mother stood looking
at this, the last sad rite and tribnte
to be paid the remains Of their beautiful
darling-their child, SO suddenly taken
from them: Then the mothers heart gave
way The great sorrow and grief wiring
ing her soul must have relief else she
will surely die. Obi the depth OF anguish
shown in that mothers gaze-heard In the
sobs almost choked with tears. The hus-
band and father, gently, with strong, yet
tender arm supported her from the place.
But it was too much, almost. for him to
bear, but with pale face and trembling
limbs he stopped and they again take one
long lingering look at this little grave.
Who can tell the feelings OF this mother
or this father2 Where are the words to
express the hopes and loves buried IL that
little grave? A beautiful child of 8
years, the JOY and glory of their
mpanionship-lovely in the grow
ing and the development into girlhood;;
How the hearts of those parents twlned
about herr How glad she made their
homel How her joyous laughter made
music and how her kiss Of love made warm
their hearts; how her arms entwlned aoout
their necks, and how sweetly she rested
upon their breasts. All this is gone for
ever and little Marie is dead, dead-no.
not dead, but living-hving with sweeter
smile, brighter eye. more beautiful than
ever The voice that made glad these
sorrowing hearts OF mother, father Is now
mingled with the music Of heaven. Me
thought as l stood amidst the homes
of the dead, in the bright sunlight
and white tombs, that Marie, innocent.
siniess child, was looking from the beautl-
full land, radiant in the garments OF i'm
mortality, upon the scene, and would not
some angel messenger come and whisper
peace" to the throbbing hearts so be-
reayed? Yes. ''she comes from heav-
en-, and on her wings doth bear
a holy fragrance, like the breath OF
prayer, for the broken hearted" The
mllQeSC nGrdlQ Dy our ldtc diIOttCN 49,
beacons and inverted torch doth stand. to
lead us with gentle hand into the silent
land of the great departed. Into the
silent land" 1t cannot be that earth Is
our only abiding place; it cannot be that
our life is bubble cast upon the ocean or
eternity to float moment upon its wave
and then sink into darkness and nothing
ness-else why is it that the aspirations
which leap like angels from the temple OF
our hearts are forever wandering about
unsatisfied? Why is it that the cloud and
the rainbow come over US with a beauty
that is not Of earth, and then
pass away and leave US to muse
upon their faded lovelinesss Why is il
that the stars that hold their nightly festi,
val around the midnight throne are placed
above reach of our limited faculties, for
ever knocking us with their inapproach-
able glory and finally, why is it that
bright forms of human beauty are pre-
sented to our care and then taken from US
leaving the thousand streams OF our affec'
lions to flow back in Alpine torrents upon
orr hearts? Yes, we are born for higher
destiny than that of earth. There IS a
land where the rainbow never fades; where
the stars will spread out before US like
islands that slumber on the ocean, and
where the beings, that here pass before Us
like the child, Marie, will remain in oul
presence forever. Take heart sad and
Borrowing ones, for she is not dead and you
will meet again. D.
April Is, 1891.