The Bolivar bulletin. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1946, 1903-08-21
Only Flower That l Drop UpOI
Her Grave.

In the afternoon of August 18th, thrill of tender
emotion went through my heart, when messen
ger came to our home, bearing the tidings, Miss
| Irene Wright died this morning at about II
O'Clock" We did not know until that morning
that she was even sick, and I, who sick my
self, had planned to drive down to her next morn
ing. did go, Irene, but you. alas too still
them and had to bend a little lower to see your
sweet face through the cofined lid, while the
| tears fell thick and fast, and murmured:
''There are kisses fond and sweet,
Pressed by lips more to meet
On the olden shore of sweet long ago."
Miss Irene had been indisposed for several days,
but she was not considered seriously i'll until Sun
day noon, when she taken suddenly worse,
and died next morn. She so young; the very
picture of health, vivacioUs, and lovely.
Death has no more cruel mission than when it
! fastens its remOrseless fangs upon young and
beautiful woman. That is the loveliest phase and
time of lifc-when hopes brightest and the
future all aglow with promise; when life is sweet
est and every circumstance and surrounding is
clothed in gladness and Joy How cruel to crush
such heart to blight such hope to take such life!
There is inexpressible sadness that steals over
the most incorrigible heart at the announcement
of such an untimely death.
Irene died in perfect peace, ready to meet her
father, who was waiting for her in heaven. Her
funeral services were conducted at her mothers
residence Tuesday morning, by her pastor, Rev.
Mr.. COchrane A very large concourse of relatives
and friends followed the body to the cemetery,
where beneath the mound of exquisite flowers, was
hid i-om sight all that was mortal OF merry Irene
Wright. She laid by the side of her father,
and together they..sleep the long and dreamless
sleep.
In life Irene the per feet flower of beauty and
sweetness, and when she disappeared, the bloom
seemed to pass away from the summer flowers, the
azure from the calm August sky.
Many a sweet spring shall put forth its blossoms
in sight of this early grave; many gay summer
viii shed its beauty around the scene, and the
bright colors of autumn will illumine the high
eminence where her ashes repOse, but in this
world our much loved friend will never smile
again. The LOWEST flowers are often soonest pluck
ed and this sweet flower has been transplanted to
genial cline
We miss you, Irene. We miss the smiles from
the sunniest face. You we're the bright home
angle. the fairest and sweetest singing bird, and
mother brothers and sisters miss the sivery voice
that was so often heard in the adjoining room,
catching up and echoing little snatches of m eody
they miss your sweet kisses, your soft hands, and
the sound of your feet upon the stairs; they miss
the sweet fresh face that always came to the bed
room in the morning, and the triple good night
kiss in the evening. When the grasses
grow, and the autumn leaves fall upon your grave
we will miss you then as now, everywhere, dearest
but we will try not to miss you in heaven.
No more ia their home will your light, bound
ing feet
Make sweetest of music to your fond mothers
ear;
No more will the melody of your rich clear voice
GLADDEN. the hearts of your brothers, who loved
you so dear,
Fair sisters lament thee, and comfortless weep,
For one of their number has lain down to sleep.
The sweet sister wreath now is lacking one gem |
Oh, where is the jewel? In Gods diadem.
Ye kindred in sorrow, your treasure IS in dust.
Submit to Jehovah in Him only trust;
He chastens for good, and wounds but to heal
For love is his banner and truth is his seal.
Salisbury, Tenn, Aug. IS. 1903. Il. G. o.