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"The Notices of the Stables Family"
by William Stables (1794-1862)

Page 91 them. She had been brought up in a farm house, and was very lively and active
in her movements, so that she was prepared for making a clever farmer's wife,
and having spent several years with her brother in the city, her manners and
port and whole demeanor were much superior to what is usually found in our
villages.
On March 25th, 1817 my sister Ann and I rode down from York to visit
my grandmother and the family, but I think we stayed only one night. In
Feby. 1628 after the decease of my' mother) I again visited than, and from, my
grandmother received a very considerable proportion of the matter
contained in these notices of the family.
My mother was daughter of John Dunn and Ann his first wife, and I
was born at Swinefleet Novr. 2nd 1766. In lea* than three months she had
lost her mother by death, a loss which in her early life she had much
cause to deplore. "Not long after her birth, "Grandfather had to
leave his farm, and with his infant daughter retired again to his father's
house, he residing also in Swinefleet. His mother, I believe, was dead, so
that the principal care of the little girl devolved on her aunts (afterwards
Mrs. Laverack and Middlebrook), tut they often complained of the weight of
their charge, and to say, "She is always wanting something." by which they
used so to wound Grandfather's feelings that at length, when she was about
three years of age, he determined to take her to her maternal grandmother,
then Mrs. Barnett, a widow at Belton, about a mile from Epworth, in
Lincolnshire. There not being any school of any note in Belton, as soon as
my mother was old enough to to backwards and forwards, she used to attend a
day school at Epworth, (See note A, page 136). She used to take her dinners to
the house of a Mrs. Kilham, a widow. This Mrs. Kilham was the mother of Revd.
Alexander Kilham, who afterwards made so much stir in the Methodist Society, and
was the chief in founding the "New Connection"
With her grandmother, Mrs. Barnett, she remained until she was about
thirteen years of age, when Grandfather brought her home, in order to get her to
some other school of more eminence. She then went to Mr. Thomas Cordukes' in
Petergate, York, where she remained somewhere between one and two years,
attending some superior school. Thus she went on, until Grandfather took Miss
Cordukes home with him, his second wife, and my mother went with her,
having, as it appears, ended her scholastic life.
She continued with her parents at Barlby Hall, for about five years, when
Mr. Thomas Cordukes having been much pestered with some very idling
housekeepers since his sister's marriage, and Nancy being now about twenty
years of age, he presented a request that she might be allowed to reside with
him, in order to superintend his domestic concerns. He engaging to take great
care of her, which he accordingly did, introducing her into much respectable
society, by associating with which, she became a little more refined in her
manners, behaviour and appearance, than is coalmen in the ordinary run of
farmers' daughters. With him she again remained from one to two years, when a
report reaching the ears of Grandfather's family, that both Mr. Cordukes himself,
and also his brother William, who was a farmer at Sheriff-Hutton, were paying very
particular attentions to Nancy, on hearing this, she was immediately fetched
home, and all that business fell to the ground.
 
Page 92  Her stepmother describes my mother in her youth, as being of a very
modest and unassuming disposition, very thoughtful and retired in her habits,
and of such an amiable disposition generally, that she strove to please every
one, and would not willingly offend any one. She was very fond of a book, and
employed her leisure hours in the storing of her mind with knowledge, and
especially sought knowledge at that best of sources, the Holy Bible.
grandfather had a very ancient Quarto Bible, more than two hundred years old,
printed in the ancient British letter, usually called Black Print. This she could
read with the greatest facility. In 1828 I was favoured with a sight of this
valuable piece of antiquity, and was informed that it was the one in which my
mother in her youth used frequently-to search after God. This at once explained
the reason why, all her life, she preferred reading the Scriptures in a Quarto
copy of Black Print belonging to my father and his ancestors. When she was a
girl, her father used her to read much to him, and among other things she had
generally to read part of the weekly newspaper to him, and as he took much pains
in correcting her pronunciation and laying on the emphasis, so by the practice she
attained to an ability for reading aloud which is possessed by very few.
Very early in life she was the subject of powerful religious impressions, so
much so, that she united herself to the Methodist Society, at what exact time that
took place I cannot ascertain.. But I have seen an old class paper, beginning with
April 22nd, 1781, on which her name appears as a regular member, and stands
near the top, as though she was a member of some standing, though at that time
she was little more than fourteen years of age. Ever accustomed to attend the
public worship of God, she now began to perform from choice, which she had done
from parental injunction. But being often debased when at home with her parents
at Barlby Hall, through the distance, the River, and the numerous engagements
of the young family, she the more enjoyed her enlarged privilege when she again
went to Yorke this would be when she was about twenty years of age. A text book
which she kept, and which I have seen, about that time, fully shown how
diligently she attended the House of God, and there received instruction at the
lips of several of the most eminent of the first race of Methodist preachers. Among
them we notice such names as Rutherford, Mather, Brackenbur; March 4, 1788, Dr.
Coke; on Matthew, 6.33. June 23rd, Monday, Mr. John Wesley Romans 13, 11-12-
13. Tuesday morning 24th Dite. Hebrews 2,1, 25th Wed, night Mark 4,3, 26th
Thursday morning Dite Psalms 146,45. When she was about twenty-one years of
age, she was brought to a more determined attention to her soul's concerns, and to
seek for the poss-
ession of that experimental religion which enables its possessors to say, "My Lord and
my God". The events which were conducive to this important attainment were a little
remarkable. On being about to leave the house to go on some errand, or to some
meeting, her father requested her, as she returned, to call and enquire after the health
of one of their neighbours, who was dangerously ill. On calling, she was invited into the
room of the sick man. While she remained there, the eon of the dying man in reference
to his parent said, "Will angel bands convey their brother to the bar?"
 
Page 93 To which the old man replied, with terror in his looks, No, Devils will,
drag my soul away to meet its sentence there." These awful words, so
emphatically expressed by a dying man, so powerfully affected her that
she was led seriously to examine her own religious state, and to reflect
on the doom she herself might hear, if she were called to her account ere
she experienced a saving change of heart. By this circumstance she was
roused from her previous state of comparitive lethargy of soul, and now
in earnest sought redemption in the blood of Jesus; and in honour of her
great High Priest, she was heard and answered, and was soon after enabled
to rejoice in her sin-pardoning God, being assured that her name was
written in the Iamb's Book of Life. The witness of the Spirit, the
internal evidence of her acceptance, was
she described, quite clear, decisive and satisfactory. On her informing
her classmates of the joyous circumstance, Grandmother privately enquired
of her, how she came by the blessing, when she informed her (what her
modesty had prevented her from more publicly avowing) that it was by the
application of a portion of sacred Scriptures, contained in God's promise
to Abraham, and is recorded Gen. 12,2. "I will make of thee a great nation."
From this time she held on the noiseless tenor of her way, ever opposed to
anything like an ostentatious display; she nevertheless was far removed
from anything like indecision of character, and from this time to the day
of her death, distinctly showed by her deportment that she had not in vain
believed.
It was at the instigation and recommendation of my Uncle Richard
Burdsall, who had no doubt often seen and admired her, during the time
she was with Mr. Cordukes, that my father first became acquained with
her, and it was by him that Father was introduced into the family. It was
on a Sunday forenoon that they arrived at Barlby Hail, Uncle having taken
the liberty of bringing his friend with him. They were invited
to dine. By looks, words or somehow, it became whispered in the family,
that his friend was come for the purpose of having a look at Nancy. And
this, with her very modest disposition, was to her not a little
embarrasing. After dinner they were about to start off the preaching at
Selby, but 'when Nancy was enquired for, Grandmother found that she had
been gone sometime, having slipped away immediately after dinner, in
order to avoid their friends' company. After the Chapel service closed,
she took away to the house of some friend in Selby, where she remained a
while, so long as she thought the family would have been considerably in
advance of her. But fearing to be found fault with, for being absent from
home too long, she set out as soon as she thought her object
accomplished. Uncle Burdsall, however, having a numerous acquaintance,
the family had called with him, and after remaining some time, they were
accompanied to Grandfather's by seven or eight of them to tea. And just
when they came to the Ferry, they beheld Nancy before them, nearly over the
Ferry, so that they had to wait until the boat returned, and she thus got
a fair start of them. After tea, the young men staid with them until it
was time for Uncle and Father to move. Uncle turning to Father, said, "We
can stay all night if you please." Father, however, thought they had
better return. Accordingly they prepared to move. The young men, however,
thought they would accompany Uncle Burdsall a short distance. When the
horses were brought out, Uncle mounted first, and moved off accompanied by his
 
Page 94 friends. Father, however, being last, turned off aside to let his horse
drink at a pond near the house. The horse probably drank rather long, -
at least until the party had left him. Father then embraced the opportunity,
with which his wit had furnished him, and though he had scarce seen my
mother, he returned to the house, asked for Grand-father, and of him got
permission to repeat his visit, for the special purpose of making
proposals to Nancy.
Not meeting with any repulse from Grandfather, he vent again, and
managed to procure not only a sight, but a hearing also with mother, and
an acquaintance was commenced. But after some time, Father complained to
Grandmother, that she was so shy, he could not get her to talk and knew not
what to make of her, and the connection seemed almost broken off. Father,
however, could not rest-her image was often before his minds eye, and he
at last came to the resolution to go another time. He, however, went under
the influence of excited feelings. From the circumstance of my mother
having been with Mr. Cordukes, some of my father's friends had spilled it out
that she had been his servant, and on that account they rallied and joked
and scolded my father not a little, at his being about to marry a servant.
Under such excitement, he went in a great duster, (as grandmother
described it) to know if she had not been a servant. And to such a degree
was his pride nettled that he declared that if she had, he would have no
more to do with her. Grandmother, however, undertook to give an explanation
of circumstances, and after father had taken some refreshment, he and she
walked out together into the orchard, up and down which they walked
together, perhaps fifty times. Father asked unnumbered questions, which
Grand-mother answered honestly. Father was in some sort satisfied, but
said, "If she would only talk like ye, I could make something of her," And
one time, "Ha, ha, ha, hear ye, if anybody see us, they'll say, I am
courting you." After this lengthy explanation, Father renewed his suit with
fresh vigour, usually going on Tuesday evening, after he had finished his
market business at Leeds, and remained one or two nights, according to
circumstances. On one occasion, he vent with a hare bleeding in his hands,
laughing heartily, saying it was worried in the way just before him, and as he
could see no body coming to take it up, he thought that he had a providential
right to it. On another occasion, he went in the evening. It was a meeting
night. Grandfather had gone to the meeting. It was the churning night.
Grandmother was busy with the kitchen business. Mother had to nurse the
young child, and talk to Father in the room. While things were thus
situated, the room chimney got on fire, and blazed out very much into the
room. The alarm was given, Grandmother was in a dreadful pucker; as for
Father, he got Mother and the young child into his arms, and there held them,
as if to preserve them from danger, laughing at the same time most
heartily, but making no effort to subdue the fire; at which Grandmother
was much astonished, and thought he could hardly be "compos mantes". The
same night, their servant girl had her sweetheart, whom she afterwards
married, and the servant man went and sat up with her, who afterwards
became his wife, so that business at that time was very brisk.
 
Page 95 After some time, although Father had complained that she would not talk, it
became evident that they were getting to understand each other. Before,
however, my mother gave him any positive answer, she went, at her father's
request, to Belton, to consult her grandmother on the business, who gave
her this information on the subject. "Marry whom thou wilt, thou'll have
sorrow, but there are two sorts of sorrow, fat and lean, but fat sorrow is
better than lean sorrow. As to living comfortably with a husband, I have had
three husbands, and could live happily with them, and I think I could with
almost any man; and so mayest thou. Try to make them happy, and thou wilt
be happy thyself." After receiving such advise, she returned home and
consented to be married.
After mature deliberation, and a courtship of somewhere about twelve
months continuance, with the entire consent of her friends, the business
was brought to a close, and they were united in the bonds of matrimony
on Sunday Augst. 30th, 1789. The ceremony was performed in
Hemingbrough Church, - Barlby being in the parish, - The minister was the
Revd. J. Thompson, and took place in the presence of Grandfather and
Grandmother, and Uncle and Aunt Burdsall, father being in the 33rd and
mother in the 23rd year of their ages.
After bearing her first or second child, she was very much afflicted with
bad breasts. From them she suffered more than a martyrdom, and to such a
distressing pitch did the inflammation and putrification arise, that her
medical attendants announced it to her as their opinion, that nothing more
could be done for her, but to take off one of the entire breasts. To this
she was very loath to submit, and resolved to endure her pains a little longer,
are she underwent such a distressing operation. In the interim, she was
informed of some woman, who was famous for the cure of bad breasts. She
was sent for, undertook the business, and succeeded so far at least that
an operation was rendered unnessary. But from that time, one breast forever
failed of its milky secretions.
My mother had a numberous family, all single births, viz;
i, Mary! 2. Ann; 3. Elizabeth; 4, William; 5. Ann (the 2nd) 6. John; 7. Hannah;
8. Samual; 9. Penelope; 10. Christiana; 11. Jane. Two of them, viz., Ann the
first and Christiana died in their infancy. Three of them, viz., Samuel,
Penelope and Christiana, were in their infancy much afflicted with some kind
of inward convulsion fits, of which Christiana died, when she was about
three months old. There were, to a mother of her sensitivity and tenderness,
times of acute trial and distress, Often have I stood near her when my little
brother Samuel was writhing on her knees, and I have seen the great big
tears rolling down her cheeks in rapid succession. It being the opinion of
her medical attendant that the fits of her children were occasioned by some
peculiarity in her milk, she never let her last child, my sister Jane,
partake of the delicious fluid, She was brought up entirely by the spoon,
and never had any of their fits, which had been so distressing to the three
which had preceded her.
My mother was favoured with an excellent constitution, both of
mind and body. There are few minds more active and vigourous than
 
Page 96 was hers, There are few bodies that enjoy such good general health, and
having her children in such rapid succession, she found abundant exercise
from one and the other. I do not remember her ever to have had any
serious boodily indisposition, except her confinements in
child-bed, from which she did not always recover very rapidly.
After a residence of more than twelve years at Sandygate, near
Harewood, at which place she had contracted several religious intimacies to
whom she was much attached. Among these I have often heard her mention
with respect, Mrs. Norfolk of Harewood Mills, Dame Malloni of Dun-Keswick,
and Mrs. Dickenson of Harewood. From these, however, she was, in the order
of Providence, called to part. and after taking an affectionate leave of them
(scarcely expecting to see them again
on earth) she removed with the young children to Linnington in November
1801, I have lately (1828) seen among her preserved Society Tickets. one
bearing date Septr, 1801, marked on the back, "The last I received at
Harewood," and another dated Decr. 1801. similarly marked with "The first I
received at Linnington," given by Mr. Dixon.
Although my dear Mother was exempted from much bodily affliction,
yet her exercises of mind, during the days of her pilgrimage, arising from a
variety of sources, were not few, and especially during the later part of it.
Within a few of the last years of her life, she had to resign four of her
children, who in the bloom of youth. or vigour of their days, were brought by
slowly wasting disease, to the house appointed for all living. In each case,
however, she had the unspeakable satisfaction of reflecting that they died in
the faith, and were only removed a little before, to a better country, that is
an Heavenly. My sister Ann, especially, had a long and wasting affliction, her
bones cutting through her skin some weeks before her death, and mother said
that not any of her children had any sufferings at all to be compared with
Ann's. And Sister Jane in one of her letters describes the closing scene as
being one she could never forget. For she never beheld my mother display the
mother and the Christian so fully. standing out in juxtaposition, as on that
occasion. It was on May 9th, 1822, when she was 26 years of age. She had been
dying all day, and Mather had been sitting by her, and generally on the
bedside, having scarcely left her all day, and in the evening when she had
breathed her last, when she saw the Spirit was fled, she arose from her seat
and standing over the remains, with raised and clasped hands, and face turned
upwards, the tears rolling rapidly down, she repeated the two first verses of the
725th him,
Happy soul, thy days are ended,
All thy mourning days below,
Go, by angel guards attended
To the sight of Jesus. Got
Waiting to receive the spirit,
Lot The Saviour stands above,
Shows the purchase of his merit,
Reaches out the crown of love.
 
Page 97  Another source of much uneasiness, was the great contrast there was
in the disposition of my Father and Mother. He (especially in the decline of
life) was careful, narrow, contracted, anxious, no doubt to leave his family
in good circumstances. On the other hand, my mother was liberal and
generous, disposed to relieve the wants, and gratify the wishes of those
around her. I have no doubt, but both erred.
Both dispositions were a little in the extreme; but it probably caused my
father to hold his purse strings a little tighter, than in other circumstances
he might have done, Perhaps in this, too, he was a little emboldened to act
Lordly and tyrannically, because nearly the whole of their large property had
come to his family. My mother, on her marriage, received some bed-quilts,
china, and other little things (to procure which for her, she said her
stepmother exerted herself much). She also received 100 pounds as her
wedding portion, and 50 pounds more after the decease of her father, which
was all the fortune she ever had. About this, my father was sometimes a little
cross; for though he never expected much fortune, yet he used to say, that
grandfather always said, that he intended to make his children all alike.
Whereas, when his will was produced, he had left much more to his daughters
by his second marriage than to my mother, the blame of which my father laid
on my grandmother, with whom, for several years, he was very shy, though
lately they have got tolerable friends (1828)
Another source of much uneasiness and sorrow to her was the severity
and harshness with which my father treated his children generally, especially
my sister Mary (who had married contrary to his injunctions), my brother
John for sometime before his death, and now for several years my brother
Samuel. My father always kept us at a great distance, which, when were
children, might have done tolerably well, but unhappily, when grown to the
estate of men and women, he too much treated us as still children. On the
other hand, as we became men and women, my mother could treat us as such,
could talk to us familiarly, and perhaps was induced to do so the more by my
father's severity, especially in the case of brother Samuel. On this score, they.
had much unpleasantness, and I have heard my father say since Mother's
death, that they had had more words about Samuel, than about anything since
their marriage,
On Monday, Feby. 26th, 1827, my dear mother was as well as ever she
was in her life. Mrs. Hartas, the wife of Thomas Hartas, a respectable farmer
of the Quaker persuasion, a woman of eminent piety, had taken tea with my
mother, and they had spent a most agreeable afternoon together (vide Mrs.
H.) in conversation and social intercourse. After a rather early tea, she
accompanied Mrs. H. a short distance on her way home. After her return. she
was with Father, in the kind of back kitchen by them usually termed the
shade. They had been engaged about something, but for a moment father had
gone out of the door. On his return, he found her laid on the floor, in a state
of insensibility, having in that short period been seized by and fallen under
the influence of a fit of apoplexy. She was immediately conveyed to bed, and
medical aid sent for. For two or three days she took no tice of anything, nor
ever was able to speak again. After that she recovered a little,
 
Page 98 and hopes were entertained of her recovery. She could answer questions by
"Yes" or "No". On March 1st she was quite sensible, and on being asked if she
were in pain, she faintly answered, "No". One present asked her if she was
happy in God. She answered, "Yes". On the 2nd she seemed to be revived a
little, and was able to call her children by their names, and on being asked if
she could still put her confidence in God, she said, "0 yes". On the 3rd she
inquired for her son Samuel. When he approached her bedside, she said,
"Samuel will get to Heaven." On it being observed that all her children would
try to follow her. she replied with emphasis, "God grant you all may." On Sunday
4th, she talked a little. In answer to questions from Sister Elisabeth, she
expressed herself as happy in the enjoyment of God, and on one occasion
added, "It seems hard to suffer so, but it is all right, for the Lord knows what
is best for us." During the time she was able to speak, her attendants often
observed her engaged with God in prayer, and when one said, "There remaineth
a rest for the people of God." she replied, "There does. There shall I rest from
all of my sufferings." After Sunday she said but little, it seeming to give her
great pain even to say "Yes" or "No". But when asked if she was happy. she
always answered in the affirmative. Her countenance also bespoke the general
serenity of her mind. It was evident, however, sometimes she wished to
commie cate something to my sisters, but feeling her inability, the tear would
involuntarily start into her eye. From the Sunday it was not perceived that
she was worse, until about seven o'clock on the evening of Wednesday March
7th. About that time she began to fall off, and gradually and quietly sunk
into the arms of Death, just as the clock struck nine on! the evening of
Wednesday, March 7th, 1827, after this affliction of J little more than nine
days continuance.
On her first attack, she completely lost the use of one side, even the
teeth were fast locked together, and she took no sustenance during her
affliction, but what was conveyed between her teeth in a
tea spoon. Two or three days before her departure, she had some medicine
administered by her medical attendants (Messrs. Loyd, M.D. and partner of
Pickering) which evidently caused her much pain. Her stomach swelled much.
She frequently rubbed it gently with the hand she was able to use, and as
soon as the medicine began to operate as physic, she died.
About half past four o'clock on the evening of Saturday, March 10th,
the funeral procession commenced. The corpse was borne from the house by
eight of my dear mother's female neighbours, who were all eager to testify
their respect for her, by this last kindly office.
They, however, had not proceeded far before they were under the necessity of
being relieved by their more able associated; of the other sex. who afterwards
performed the chief part of the labour, until they approached the parish
church; being near half a mile distant from my father's house. The funeral
service was read by the vicar, the Revd. Mackereth in
rather a careless and mumbling manner. The church was nearly full of females,
clothed in garments of deepest hue, consisting of nearly all of that sex in the
village and neighbourhood, who were all, without exception. eager to pay the
last tribute of respect to departed worth. The
 
Page 99 relations attending were my father and his five children, my wife,
Uncles Jonathan and George Dunn, Uncle Cordukes, Cousins John and Mary
Lyth, and Mr, and Mrs. Bentley, of Linnington..
In person, my mother was about the middle size. When young, I
understand she was a remarkably neat, small, tidy girl. Ever since I can
remember, she had been rather lusty and stout, but being small boned, she
was ever very nimble and active. Of late years, however, she has shrunk a
little. Her countenance was open and her features regular and
prepossessing, Indeed, the form and fashion of her countenance was a
correct representation of her disposition, which was generous, liberal,
and benevolent, ever taking pleasure in relieving the indigent and
distressed, according to her limited means. In her demeanour there was a
happy mixture of religious experience she was ever afraid of making any
lefty pretentious to superior and exalted piety, but far from acting any
undecided part. She was ever the same humble, devoted Christian, whoever
stumbled or whoever fell. A funeral sermon was preached in the Methodist
chapel on occasion of her death
by Rev. Watkin, on "Be ye also ready." (See father's letter of
April 3rd, 1827)
As the mistress of the house, her abilities were of a superior
order, always active and industrious, she was accustomed to superintend
her domestic concerns in every department in person, and having so
numerous a family of children, and generally a great number of
agricultural servants and labourers to victual in the house, she had few
opportunities, had she been so disposed, to eat the bread of idleness, As
a mistress she was accustomed to keep her servants at a respectful
distance. She possesed sufficient spirit and firmness to render her
authority respected, and yet she was accustomed to treat them with such
calmness, kindness, and mildness as uniformly to fain their affections.
As a mother,+he attachment and attention to her rising family was
unceasing and unremitting. They were early taught to respect her authority
and their wills being properly broken in infancy, she had never after-wards
any trouble in bringing them to obey her commands. She was remarkably tender
and affectionate towards them. and as they grew up to maturity, her authority
was gradually withdrawn, not so withdrawn as to lose her influenee over them,
but so as not to treat them as children after they were grown to manta and
woman's estate. For her children were ever ready to conform to her wishes,
and if in the later part of her life, she did err, it was in being too
condescending and yielding to her descendants.
A short notice of her appeared in the Wesleyan Magazine for 1828
(Shilling No. page 64.
 
Page 100 "To the Memory of My Mother," by Hrs. Lyth.

Friend of my youth, Farewell, awhile;
No more I meet the cheerful smile,
A welcome 'heath your roof;
No more those kind attentions share
The watch'd for turns of tender care,
That sweet affection spoke.

Ah, noway hospitable home The
seat of sorrow is become,
A want in everyplace;
The twilight shows my friend no more,
Arise the Saviour to adore, The
subject of his grace.

No more the starting tear shall flow,
At the sad tale of others' woe, By
softest pity moved;
The hand so ready to supply
The widow's wants and infant's cry, In death forever closed.

The cheerful feet no more are moved To
tread the sacred courts she lov'd,
Jehovah's will to know'
The attentive ear, the watchful eye,
Shrouded in death, in darkness lie,
To see and hear no more.

The husband views her empty chair,
He turns, but Oh, she is not there,
To soothe his drooping mind;
His eye's desire is at a stroke
Remanded and his purpose broke,
What solace can he find?

Her daughters mourn her wonted care,
To aid their wants, their griefs to share,
Their youthful minds to steer;
In Biography's useful store,
Or knowledge that instructions pour
Remembrance, still how dear.

Her maidens look around and sigh But,
Ah! No mistress meets their eye
Directions now to give;
In silence, see, they move apart
To hide the sorrows of their heart,
Or thus their woes relieve.

Weep not, she's left her cares behind,
And find the rest she sought to find,
The haven of repose;
Behold her where the weary rest,
'Mongst angels, saints and seraphs blest,
Where pleasures ever flow.
 
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Last modified: December 12, 2006