Year: 1867

possible, more comfortable, yet I could no
give all my time to toll Hence | set tasks
and wrought hard to gain time, only to spend
it with her, roaming along the banks Of the
mighty river, or in the deep woods, and lis
tening with loves devotion to her sweet con
verse. 0, how happy were those days 1
can, even now scarcely sometimes restrain
! the mad, unavailing desire for their return
May came, the month Of our marriage.
/ had planned an anniversary, and had ex-
hausted all my ingenuity deviSing fit means
/ OF celebrating an event so fraught with hap
/ plness to me. And now only one week re
mained until the day would be here l
went home to find Mary smitten with a sud
/ den illness. OF course, my fears were
awakened; but she smiled upon me, and re-
minded me that eUery illness was not fatal
Hers, she said, was not violent at first even,
and is now, said she much less So But
day after day came and went, and went and
came, and she grew no better, but worse only,
until on our anniversary, In these arms
said the Squire, holding both up, as if the
blessed burden were still there, Il held my
dying Mary"


The old mau ceased speaking for Q little
while, giving way to tears, strongly attest
ing devotion time had not made less ardent,
and could but weep with him


Resumlng his story, he said; As she
lay thus, gasping IN my arms, she said
Husband, l can't live longer to reward
your love; we hoped to walk down life's path
together, but that Is passed remember q0ltr
Mary IN heaven-meet me there; 1 will
await your coming on the shores Of the shin
ing river. Death, husband, is testing nv
hope, and l feel now In his very presence
nay, husband, while his hand is untieing
the curiOas knot that binds together soul
and body, that


Hope dies not with the feeting breath.


But trumphs Ger the sting of death.


Promise me to join in this hope, born of
the gospel, and promise to meet me up yon-
der among the angels


" l will, will, I said, and bending my
head, received my Marys last kiss, sealing
my promise. And there, by the body of my
dead wife, hope | found that pardon that
/ sought in the blood of Jesus, and rejoiced
while wept, that death cannot separate for
ever those who love On cart, if in Jesus they
are united l felt as gazed through tears
on the calm features Of my Mary, fixed In
death,


Yet shall the deathIess soul survive


AID having gained the victory Ger the grave,


Bloom in perennial beauty in the courts


OF God when time shallbe no more.


"Hence, though l have mourned nearly
forty years, and have hid in my heart deep
, J
no hope From the day of her burial, be-
came wanderer A pilgrim, 90 once a
year, always in May, to my Mary's grave,
and to our little cottage by the river. When
we were in Memphis, went to visit the spot
so sacred in my memory. The walls of my
cottage still stand, but the storms of forty
years have beaten away the roof; only a de-
cayed rafter clinging by a single rusted nail
Is left Of the shelter | made for Mary. The
locks and hinges have long since rusted
away, and the doors have fallen and are
gone rank weeds every year grow up about
the hearth-stones, where was our family
altar. 1 feel that I, too, am decaying, and
that soon


This hot pulse shall grow still and cold beneath


The soft. damp pressure Of the shrOuding moss.


But shall at last see Mary, whose smile
will be all the sweeter that l have waited
and wished so long Her fair young face
will only be the more lovely, and her golden
tresses more beautiful, for the crown that
encircles her brow"


A smile gathered around his lips as he
added: "'Twill not be long now till shall
press my Mary to my bosom, and death viii
not part us for ever. Thanks be to Jesus
who hath abolished death r.