Kate (Cahill) Dakin (1839-1881)

CAHILL, DAKIN

Posted By: Dorian Myhre (email)
Date: 11/12/2012 at 18:30:06

From Nevada Representative May 18, 1881

Died.

At the residence of S. W. Dakins, May 11, A. D. 1881, Mrs. Katie Dakins, aged 42 years and 1 month.

This subject of this sketch was born in Toronto, Canada, April 1839, Early in life she was left an orphan. In 1857 she removed to Noble Co. Ills.

On the 7th of February, 1870, she was united in marriage to S. W. Dakins, and shortly thereafter the happy pair removed to Story Co., Iowa, locating in Lincoln township and by their mutual industry, they secured a pleasant and comfortable home. They have fathered around them all the actual needs of life. Their home is a beautiful place.

When but a girl, sister Dakins was converted and united with the church and remained faithful until death. With her was found many excellent qualities, she had certainly taught us the lessons of economy and industry. Her life was bright, joyful and full of hope.

Though her illness was somewhat protracted, she was not given to murmuring at her lot. She was a living witness of what grace of God can do for those who trust him. "For her to live is Christ, and to die was gain." May all of her surviving relatives and friends emulate her chirstian example and share her eternal reward.

H.C. ROSENBERGER.

Letters written on the death of Mrs. S. W. Dakins, by her husband:

In the grave they have laid her,
Laid the wife I loved so well,
Sorrowing thoughts now fill my bosom,
Sorrow that no tongue can tell.
Youths gay morn in bright effulgence,
Had long dawned upon her head.
Ere deaths summons called her from us,
To the mansion of the dead.

Patient meekness marked her suffering,
Suffering deep and all untold,
Racked her frame of strength and beauty
Glassed those eyes with death's damp mould,
But her spirit, all unfettered,
Rose above the galling chain,
Faltered not at deaths approaches,
Death to her she knew was gain.

Friends she loved were round her weeping.
Weeping tears of deepest grief,
Praying God to spare that suffer,
And to bring her sweet relief.
Then the angels hovering o'er her,
O'er the struggling longing soul,
Bore her spirit on his pinions
To the spirits destined gost.

Now above where angels voices
Tune their harps in joyful lays,
Dwells my wife in heavenly bowers,
Singing now her makers praises,
May I meet that wife in heaven,
Her I miss so much while here,
Meet her when lifes scenes are over,
In a brighter, happier sphere.

S. W. DAKINS.