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ALTHOUGH I have never seen your sweet facos, darling children, yet my heart has felt with your heart in the great sorrow which has overshadowed your sunny morning. And it has been a peculiar, albeit a mournful pleasure, to prepare these reminiscences of that early-loved and longcherished friend, who, like a sun-tinged cloud of morning, has passed away into heaven. Though imperfect, I trust they may preserve to you a faint image of her who, in a land of strangers, notwithstanding the intensity of her affection for the little flock she was leaving motherless, could get confidingly commit it to the good Shepherd's care.
One of her precious number, the pet-lamb of the flock, has been early restored to her arms in the sleep of the grave. For dear little Mary no such memorials are now needed.
From the beautiful life of your mother's mother I have inwrought a few golden threads. More of these I would gladly have gathered up, as a fuller memento of her whom you will never see but with immortal eyes ; for your sake, I could not refrain from interweaving at least a few.
May the dying counsels of your departed mother live in your memory and in your character; and may her holy faith, which cast so serene a light on the Dark River, be yours also, brightening the desert-path of Life, and with its celestial rays illuming the river of Death, when your feet shall stand upon its shadowy borders!
“With Him before whose awful power
Thy spirit bent its trembling knee, Who in the silent greeting flower
And forest leaf looked out on thee,
“ We leave thee with a trust serene,
Which Time, nor Change, nor Death can move, While, with thy childlike faith, we lean On Him whose dearest name is Love."
J. G. WHITTIER.