Alfred Gibbs Campbell

In Memoriam

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Abbie Hutchinson, Of Trenton, N.J. Died August, 1854.


Were death a never-ending sleep,
And the dark grave life's final goal,
Well might we o'er her ashes weep,
And let our tears unceasing roll.


But, springing from its senseless clay,
The deathless spirit wings its flight,
Its happy flight, to cloudless day,
Which never shall give place to night.


Sorrow and sickness nevermore
Shall come to her, or cast their gloom
Around her, on that peaceful shore,
Which she has passed to through the tomb.


She wiped the tears from others' eyes,
No tear her eye shall dim again;
She strove to still the mourner's sighs,
No more her breast shall heave with pain.


She lived for others: not in vain;
In many hearts are treasured up,
(More precious than the garnered grain,)
Her works of love, her words of hope.


Now, in the regions of the blest,
She reaps the harvest she has sown,
That true and everlasting rest
Which God ordaineth for His own.


Yet sometimes, from those regions fair,
Her pure soul visits us again,
And strives to help us calmly bear
Our loss, which is her glorious gain.


We may not see her, yet we feel
The hallowed influence she imparts,
Like balm our stricken souls to heal,
Like oil upon our wounded hearts.


Yet we shall see her. We shall meet
Where partings nevermore can come:
There shall we hold communion sweet,
In our Dear Father's Happy Home!

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