Saturday, August 5, 2017

Obituaries (August 5)

Antoinette Minor
1822-1843
In Woodbury, Ct. March 24th, Miss Antoinette Minor, daughter of Deacon Nathaniel Minor, aged 21 years.  In this providence of God, the parents and friends of the deceased, have sustained a severe affliction; and the circle in which she moved, an irreparable loss.  The deceased, as an individual was amiable and lovely; as a Christian, she was sincere, humble, and unassuming:--ever ready to engage in such active Christian duties, as would best exhibit the spirit of true religion, and promote the eternal interests of her fellow creatures. As a member of the church, a Sabbath school teacher, and an efficient and useful member of the choir, she will long be affectionately remembered.  She was taken sick about a year since, and during her long and painful illness, she was sustained by her Christian hope,and enabled at all times ot exhibit the spirit of true Christian submission.  No mourning word, no exhibition of impatience, under the greatest trials, were ever known to escape her.  And though her sufferings towards the close of her sickness were intense, yet she bore them all with Christian fortitude--more anxious lest she should weary and exhaust the patience of her friends who took care of her, than for herself.  In the midst of her sufferings, she fell asleep, as we have good reason to think, in Jesus. May those of her acquaintances who come after her, imitate her virtues, and may they, together come after her, imitate her virtues, and may they, together with those who may read this short tribute to her memory, be prepared for the same peaceful and happy death.

Dr. William E. H. Post
New Paltz Times, august 9, 1877
A strange and romantic wedding occurred on Monday, in this city [NYC], between two true lovers, whom death parted within two hours after they had been made one.  Dr. William E.H. Post made the acquaintance some years ago, of Miss Mary H. Milford, daughter of the late Edward Milford, of this city.  He wooed and won her and they pledged themselves to become man and wife.  The years rolled by, but each year only seemed to increase their love.  Last Friday Dr. Post was suddenly taken ill with inflammation of the bowels. The disease rapidly assumed dangerous symptoms and on Monday it was plainly seen he could not recover.  When informed of his fatal malady, he expressed a wish to see his intended wife, and if she were willing to become united with him in the bonds of matrimony.  She was informed of this wish and consented.  Accordingly, at five o'clock on Monday afternoon, everything was made ready for the wedding in the room of the bridegroom at no. 233 West Fifty first street. It was a pathetic ceremony.  No months of anxious preparation had been spent for the occasion.  There were no brilliant lights or sweet music, or costly costumes.  It was simple and solemn. The Rev. Dr. Houghton, of the Chruch of the Transfiguration, was called in to conduct the services, which were only of a few minutes duration. When the ceremony was concluded the sick man was nursed as before.  In less than two hours the bridegroom was a corpse and the bride a widow--N.Y. Tribune.

Nettie Hill
1864 - 1874
Died In Sidney Plains [Delaware Co., NY], October 24th [1874], Nettie only daughter of D.S. and Elizabeth L. Hill, aged 9 years and 6 months.  Death has knocked at our portals--knocked and entered--and away with him has borne our jewel.  Dear little Nettie; how we loved her!  With her sweet, winning ways, and her sunny disposition, she had so wound herself about our hearts that when the separation came and the golden chain was severed, it seemed as if our earthly sun was setting in a long night and we bowed in the darkness with hearts torn and bleeding.  She was a great favorite at school, and each scholar let fall a silent tear upon hearing that their beloved playmate had gone above with the angels, no more with them to play and pass the pleasant hours by.  We laid her away in the silent church yard, and above her grave shed some of the bitterest tears our eyes have every known.  Our circle is broken, the Father called, and now looking up through our tears, we seem drawn with angel hands toward that golden city, which is fairer, dearer to us since o'er its streets lightly fall the little feet that bound through our home no more. We bow in submission to the benign will of the Father, who sent His guardian angel and wooed her from this life with its pain, its anguish, its trials, temptations and sin.

Bertha Winegard
1864 - 1874
Died in Sidney Plains [Delaware co., NY], October 26th, Miss Bertha Winegard, eldest daughter of Richard and Jennie Winegard, aged 10 years.  [Death] made its way into the family of Mr. Hill and carried off little Nettie on October 24th, and only two days passed before darling Bertha also fell a victim to this dreadful intruder.  Inseparable in life, they were quickly united forever in their heavenly home. The story is most pathetically told in the following poem:

Meeting at the Gate
by Mrs. N.E. Morse
 
The old red gate at the meadow,
Was the place where they used to meet,
That opened into the waving grass,
And the clover, and daises sweet,
Where the sheen of the early morning,
Made the beautiful valley lie
Like a precious jewel, guarded round,
By the purple hills, and sky.
 
At the old red gate by the meadow,
They made their plans for the day;
In spring they carried the dandelions,
In summer, they tossed the hay,
And only like robins and blue birds knew
The happy secrets told
When Bertha' lustering brown locks touched
Sweet Nettie's hair of gold.
 
At the old red gate by the meadow,
They said good-bye for the day;
Than going home, the one had gone
With the other one, "half way,"
And merrily jesting, wild with glee,
The childish voices, clear and high,
Bubbling over with ecstasy
Sang their songs, and called, good bye.
 
At the old red gate by the meadow,
They never more shall meet,
The grass fringed path, shall never
Be pressed by their eager feet,
For an Angel came from the heavenly land
Of joy and light and love,
And bore sweet Nettie away with his hand
To her beautiful home above.
 
Are Angels ever lonely?
Do they ever stand and wait
With outstretched hands, and longing eyes
By the shinning pearly gate?
Did Nettie ask for Bertha?
That the Angel came, next day
And carried her ransomed spirit
In his tender arms away?
 
Ah! never so joyous a greeting,
By the meadow gate of old,
As came from the lips of the blessed ones
On the gleaming streets of gold!
Ah! never such glad surprise,
As Nettie, and Bertha, clasping hands
On the shores of Paradise.
 
As the summers will shine, on the meadow,
And the bobolink sing his strain,
You will pause, half thinking, that you can hear
The old time songs again
Listen for the angelic message,
For the heavenly whisper wait,
Come hither, come hither, we long for you
By the heavenly city's gate.




 

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