PARKINSON, Mrs. Jane B.

PARKINSON

Posted By: Joey Stark
Date: 3/26/2007 at 14:22:42

"Fairfield Ledger Weekly", July 22, 1869

DIED--- In Fairfield, on the 15th inst., Mrs. Jane. B. PARKINSON, wife of Thos. A. PARKINSON, aged 38 years, a christian wife and mother, whose loss will always be felt by an affectionate husband and three orphan children.

Ah, sister sweet, the world is dark about us,
Gone from our sky a bright and shining star.
And we would fold the mourning robes around us,
Did we not know thou art happier far---

Safely at rest, beyond life’s heaving billow,
Beyond this crowd of weary, aching feet,
And hungry hearts. No cypress, and no willow
Should mark thy grave, but clust’ring roses sweet.

For thy whole life was full of thought for others;
An incense falls on many hearts to-night,
Almost despairing ones, the Sisters, Brothers,
Thy Christ-like life hath turned toward the light.

And we could weep such tears, so those in heaven
Even might pity our heart-breaking grief;
Could agonize o’er cords so quickly riven,
Thy life cut off ere sear and yellow leaf

Had marked its course; and folding to our bosom
Those little orphans, questions even God
Why has he taken one so pure and winsome,
And left so many stricken ‘neath the rod.

Did we not know the blessed Lord hath crowned thee
And thou dost sit beneath the heavenly palms;
That clinging, loving angel arms are round thee,
While in thy ears are sounding glorious psalms;

That by the jasper walls, and domes of crystal,
Through golden streets thy gentle feet have trod,
Thy every heart throb now is music blissful;
Safe, safe at last in paradise of God.

And more, did we not know that we may meet thee,
And clasp thy spirit hands, as once on earth;
That it is ours in the Beyond to greet thee,
When we have known the joyous angel birth.

Oh, soul so radiant here, what must thy angel
With all earth’s clogging weights removed now be;
Where thou canst know the holy, the evangel,
The truth in Christ in all its purity.

Oh, with what rapture must thy active spirit
Enter upon those scenes so pure and bright.
The mansions glorious which thou must inherit,
For thou art heaven’s, heaven thine to-night.

And so we wear no gloom, or dark hued cypress,
Our chastened hearts all sign with one accord,
Praises unto the God, whose rod doth smite us,
For sister sweet, thou hast died in the Lord.

E.

*Transcribed for genealogy purposes; I have no relation to the person(s) mentioned.