The gold leaf. [volume] (Henderson, N.C.) 1881-1911, 1895-01-31
He Giyeth His Beloved Sleep.

death loves a shining mark, and the
dark angel could not have laid his icy
hand on Il more precious jewel than when
at the solitary hour OF midnight, as each
star its silent vigils kept over Il sleeping
world which seemed clothed in ethereal
silence, with no sound to disturb the
stiffness, save the moving to and fro OF
anxious feet he came with nOiseless tread
on the night OF January 22nd and nestled
his wings over the couch OF Florence j.,
the young and lovely wife OF W. X.
Hester. Amid the tears of loved ones he
bore her spirit to its immortal home.
She had been in feeble health for several
years. Consumption laid its fatal hand
upon her when young life, in all its beau
ty. had just begun to bud gradually her
she sank in the arms of death. Skillful
physicians, fond husband, devoted
parents. loving brothers and kindfrends
did all in their power for her: Yet as
canker devoureth the rose, this dread
disease fed on her damask cheeks.
Beautiful in character, as we'll as III
person, she had gained a warm spot in
the hearts OF all who knew her. When
the lamp of her life went out an aching
void was left which only q reunion can
fill.
She was just twenty years OF age.
Many years ago she gave her heart to
God, since that time her life has been one
OF marked consistency, casting forth Its
light beams THAT Others seeing her
good works might glorify her Father
which is in Heaven During her long
illness patience seemed to be her 81 e ltest
virtue; her resignation too was some
thing lovely. At times, when her suffer-
ing must have been intense, she would
say, s. 1t will not be always so. Only a
little while and | shall rest" The intlu-
ence OF her beautiful life will live when
her body has mouldered away in the
grave, and be as a light that shineth
more and more unto perfect day
The scene of her death bed was one of
peculiar brightness, never to be forgot
ten by those who stood around her. The
God she had so faithfully served did not
| forsake her. the Christ on whose arm she
had leaned was there to bear her over
| the dark and tremulOus sea. When her
voice was faint in death, her face so
CHASTITY white, i'll accents scarcely audi
| BILE, she breathed the words: Must
| Jesus bear the Cross alone?" and Il
would not live Away" Then she whis-
| pered, Even though | go through the
NdIItN VI Tue SildtoW Oh uedlil, L Will lctF
| no evil for thou art with me.
| 0. bliss beyond compare. she did not
seem to have a fear. As her life boat was
leaving the shore OF Time to launch out
on the tempest tossed river of Death,
where tall pillows roll and the breaking
| waves dash high. Just as her oars must
have tipped the "Golden Shore where
| angels were waiting to receive her, she
murmured: "Glory. Home Home,
| forever at rest, countless ages without
number. blessed thought. 4 ransomed
soul safe in the arms OF Jesus, clothed
i'll robes OF spotless white, crowned with
an eternal crown of glory, which fadeth
not away. There, free from care and
trouble in perfect bliss, she awaits the
coming of those who loved her. She
| leaves husband. father. mother, two
! brothers, one sister. and large circle of
| friends to lament her death.
May God in His tender mercy comfort
the grief stricken family and show them
how their loss has been her eternal gain,
and help them to feel thankful that He
has called them to suffer for His sake
make Heavens plan more beautiful to
them, when there in Jesus arms is one OF
| their very own. THE Lord gave and
the Lord hath taken away, blessed be
the name of the Lord.
Why linger when a happier doom
Awaits the Christians flight above?
There is no terror in the tomb,
That could disturb the soul Of love.
| We grievcd, for life to thee was young,
Earth had her joys twas hard to part,
| And many pang of sorrow clung,
With agony around the heart.
| The cankerinr worm was hidden there
Til time revealed its silent SWAY;
| Its work was deep, too deep to spare,
Thy breast too soon became its prey
But now no thought abstracts thy brain,
i Thine eye is sunk in deaths cold gloom
And still is every throbbing vein,
| That gave thy cheek its hectic bloom.
| Thy lamp has sunk beneath
Con>umption's sad, unearthly spell,
But memory conSecrates the wreath
/ OK love. for one that wore it we'll.
! I Il