Belding banner. (Belding, Mich.) 1889-1918, 1912-07-18


ing deeds are never lost; generous
impulses cannot die; kind words are
not forgotten. We know that In |
fumed flower, and that she, whom
we mourn today, was blest with
many virtues.
Her nature was touched by the
pathos of all human life. knowing
heart, the thorns in every path; the
signs, the sorrows and the tears that
lie between a mothers arms and
pathetic woman denied and hated
with all her loving heart, the harsh
and cruel creed that condemns souls
to eternal pain. She was a believ-
err In that serene philosophy that
has no place for pride, or hate that
threatens to revenge; a philosophy
that looks on sin as standings OF
the blind and pities those who fall,
knowing that in the heart of all
there is a secret yearning for the
right. She tried to make a Heaven
here and believed in the sweet Cos
piness and hope.
believed that in Nature there was no
that beyond nature we cannot go,
bat by following her divine teach
ings, she will be kind to all. The
same universal law that gives life,
continues existence, protects ii at its
close: and whatever the future holds
il is the same for each and all. She
hn
that, the worst that Nature could
give would be sweet and beautiful
rest.
LAS a girl when striving for an
education to fit her for the stern du-
ties of life; as wife, mother, friend,
she showed a true sincerity, charac-
teristic of her nature, when per-
forming even the simplest duties of
life. With tender faithfulness, she
discharged her varied tasks. She
loved the good and beautiful, and
many are better because of her lifo
The bereaved husband is better be-
cause of her companionship and the
world is better because of her hay-
ing lived in 1t.
This life quietly responded to
the summons from the great un-
that separates mortal life from--as
we hope-a larger life beyond. While
in the fulness of life, when We con-
template it's mysteries we are ever
face to face with the greatest of it's
| mysteries-Death.
Our friend answered the call oil
| that silent messenger, who comes
unasked, unbidden and
With his sickle keen,
He reaps the bearded grain at a
breath,
And the flowers that lie between.
After song by Mrs. DR.. Ferguson
a dear friend of Mrs. Webster, Mr..
| Clark continued:
| Il had come prepared to read
| Bryant's 'Thanatopsis, as the lesson
for this hour; but by request we
have used selections from Mrs. Web
ster's own writings, every word OF
which, although spoken by her in
praise of someone else, can be said
of her. But ! am also going to read
Thanatopsis', because it will
strengthen our courage to bear the
heartaches that this death brings.
| To him who in the love of nature holds
| Communion with her visible forms. she speaks
| A various language: for his gayer hours
She has voice OF gladness and smile.
| And eioauence OF beauty. and she glides
| Into his darker musings. with mild
And healing sympathy that steals away
| Their sharpness, ere he isaware. When thoughts
l OF the last bitter hour come like blight
| Over the spirit, and sad images
OF the stern agony, and shroud and pail.
| And breathless darkness and the narrow house.
Make thee TO shudder, and grow sick at heart;
Go forth under the open sky. and list
To Nature teachings, while from all around
Earth and her waters and the depths of air
Comes a still yoice-Yet few days and thee
The all beholding sun shall see no more
| In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground
Where thy pale form was laid with many tears.
Nor In the embrace Of ocean. shall exist =.
| Thy image. Earth that nourished thee shall
Thy growth to be resolved to earth again,
And lost each human trace, surrendering up
! Thine individual being. shalt thou go
| To mix forever with the elements
| To be a brother to the insensible rock
| And to the sluggish clod which the rude swain
| Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
| Shall send abroad his roots and pierce thy
mould
Yet not to the eternal resting place
shall thou retire alone nor couldst tn9n wish
With patriarchs of ancient world-with kings
The powerful Of earth-the wise. the good.
Fair forms and hoary seers Of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulcher. The hills,
Rock ribbed and ancient IA the sun. the Wales
Stretching in quiet penslveness between;
The venerable woods-rivers that move
| In majesty. and the complaining brooks
| That make the meadows green and poured
round all
Old oceans gray and melancholy waste,
Are but the solemn decorations all
OF the great tomb Of man The golden sun.
The planets. all the infinite hosts OF heaven,
Are shining on the sad abodes Of death,
Through the still lapse of ages. All that treaa
Inc globe are but "A handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings
Of morning and pierce the barren wilderness,
Or lose myself In the continuous woods
W here rolls the Oregon. and hears no sount
save his own dashings-yet the dead are there.
And millions in those solitudes since first
The flight Of years began. have laid them down
In their last sleep--the dead reign there alone.
So shalt thou rest, and what IL thou withdraw
In silence from the living. and no friend
Take note OF thy DEPARTURE All that breathe
will share thy destiny The gay will laugh
W hen thou art gone the solemn brood OF care
Plod on, and each one az before will chase
His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their employments an l shall
come
And make their bed with thee. As the lon train
OF ages glide away. the sons Of men,
The youth in life screen spring and he W tho goes
In the full strength of years, matron and maid
rhe speecbess babe and the gray headed man.
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side.
By those who in their turn shall follow them.
So live that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan which moves
To that my sterious realm, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls OF death,
IN H. = -.