Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Benton County, Or.) 1900-1909, 1900-06-01
In Mefnorian1.

Seasons of sorrow make all the world
akin and open up the fountains Of the
human heart AS friend of the family
I desire to speak word of consolation to
the bereaved ones over the death of w.
Lynn Hunter. Nothing I can say may
give comfort for time alone can assuage
the grief. But as looked in the face Of
that manly boy at the Presbyterian
church, after the kind and sympathetic
words of DR.. Thompson had been spoken
my heart swelled with sorrow, and felt
as did when looked in the face Of my
own boy in his coffin, and realized the
force of the words of David, ''Would to
God had died for this, my son." How
many of us grieve deeply for loved ones
laid away forever among the pale Sleep
ers of the graveyard. The mounds scat
tered over that little enclosure speak eloe
quently OF gems Of love, withered hopes
and blighted joy packed away forever.
AS I looked upon him lying in his cof-
fin it was hard to realize that he was
dead, for yesterday 'song was upon the
lips of the pale clay, and sunshine seem.
ed to dwell where ere he moved; the well
come and the blessed now gaze and bear
the silent into rest" But death ever
loves shining mark. and he can in mo-
ment desolate happy home and scar
forever hearts that never knew a pang.
This severing of earthly ties is the great
EST treat We have in this life, and as link
after link slips away from loves chain
we are led to feel more and more that
his is not our abiding place.
There are few who can look around
ind say, ''my hearts treasures are all
1ere." can but think how man is but
speck in this mighty world. His life
circles away like bubble on the ocean.
The busy stream of life flows on as
hough no wave of sorrow or misfortune
lad ever risen to its surface, and day by
lay the great, the gifted and the strong,
all one by one. And there is not an
lour that fits away but bears the burden
# life, the mystery of death. Now
ender bud is called into being, then the
trong man is dust and the hearts altar
leap of blackened ashes. But we must not
it is the common lot of all-the
Ugh, the low, the rich and the poor must
II come to the same cold bed at last. We
an say, "God gave-he took, )" but it is
lot always easy to say BLESSED be His
ame," for His way is mysterious. and
Vhen our loved ones go we are apt to
SIX why were We selected for this great
But we must remember that tribula-
ions spring not out of the ground, but
re directed by an infinite love that takes
ur treasures from earth and transposes
hem to heaven, that where our loved
mes are there our hearts may be also.
)eath is always solemn, but when it
ONES to the gay and strong in the prime
f lite, it seems doubly so. Beautiful is
nat season of life when we can say in
he language of the Scripture, "Thon
asst the dew of thy YOUTH" but Of these
o wers death gathered many. He places
aem upon his bosom, and he is trans
,rmed into something less terrific than
efore-we learn to gaze and shudder
OF, for he carries in his arms the sweet
IT blossoms of our earthly hopes. We
hall see them again. blooming in hap
ier land. Yes, death brings us to our
lends again. Death has taken thee,
20, thou hast the dew of thy youth. He
laced thee upon His bosom and His
ern countenance wears a smile. The
Ir country toward which we journey
GEMS nearer to us, and the way lees
ark. for thou hast gone before. passing
} quietly to thy rest that day itself dies
OF more calmly.
"Our brother is not dead, but sleepeth,
nd shall rise again." May the breezes
low gently, the green thereof rest softly
er the bosom of the loved one, and the
ongsters warble their sweetest notes
yer the hallowed spot-his last earthly
lheritance. B.