' My dear mother's weakness increases; but she says this
morning, she _dare not doubt_ of going to heaven.--I sat up with my
dear mother. About half-past twelve she was convulsed, and felt
sick; then, she dosed a little; then sick again,--called for
Richard,--wandered,--evidently changed for death, and had a severe
struggle, often saying, 'Do help me, do.' Her sufferings were acute.
Once she said, 'Lord, help me;' and again, 'Hope thou in God, for I
shall yet pr----;' but the words were interrupted by her sufferings,
My anguish of mind is known to Thee. As I stood by the fire the words
were suggested,
'_Thy_ warfare's past, _thy_ mourning's o'er;
Look up, for _thou_ shalt weep no more.'
I was comforted. My dear husband, cousin, and Mary, found great
consolation in prayer just before her departure. Her last words were,
'Pray, pray;' 'Lord, Lord.' Thus, about half-past one on the 23rd of
March, my dear mother 'fell asleep,' aged seventy-two years and three
weeks."
And though in ruin now her body lies,
A peaceful smile upon her face is spread:
The struggle o'er--her spirit upward flies,
To join the spirits of the blessed dead.
"My dear departed mother was interred in St. Lawrence churchyard,
by the side of my beloved father; leaving the impressive
admonition--'prepare to follow.' I feel it--my heart determines--my
will submits--I have set about it. Lord help me to persevere."
LOOK UPWARD.
Oh! how uncertain all below!
Our comforts cause us pain;
Smiling, they sting us as they go,
Ne'er to return again.
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