From: KyArchives [Archives@genrecords.org]
Sent: Sunday, October 10, 2004 7:13 AM
To: Ky-Footsteps
Subject: Edmunds.Annie.B.1877.Barren.OBIT


Annie B Edmunds September 17 1877 
Barren County KyArchives Obituaries

Octagon Cottage
"Annie B. Edmunds, daughter of E. A. and Henrietta Edmunds; born March 8th 
1866; died September 15th, 1877.

"On the 16th funeral services were conducted by the Rev. Dr. W. W. Lambuth. A 
large concourse of friends had assembled to witness the solemn occasion. Fond 
and loving parents drew near to gaze for the last time on the form of their 
little darling silently slumbring in the icy embrace of death. Brothers and 
sisters took a long lingering look at the face whose charms had added so much 
to make home happy. School mates gathered round to take a farewell view of 
their departed companion, who but few days ago helped to conquer a lesson, or 
joined them in the mirthful school-girl games, but who has now solved life's 
perplexing problem.

"The sun for a time gilded the hill-top with its cheerful radience, and the 
dew drop glistened on the wild weed, soon the face of the sun was shrouded in 
gloom and great Nature's voice seemed to announce the fellwork of death.

"Dr. Lambuth's remarks were brief, pointed and touching. After funeral 
services the body was interred in the family burying ground near by.

"About the 5th inst., the little girl was taken with brain fever. During the 
few last days of her illness her suffering was intensely great, but the 
closing hour of her earthly life seemed to be an introductory to the joy and 
peace to which she was rapidly drifting. Her eyes regained for a moment their 
original luster, and the tint of childhood's freshness seemed to lend once 
more its bright hue to her cheeks, upon which death's chill dews were gently 
descending. Soon the summons of Him, who had guided her step in other days as 
she wandered forth in search of the wild flower, called her from her bed of 
suffering, and the bark of death bore her across the sullen stream that 
divides time from eternity. The little being whose life, peace and happiness 
had ever been interwoven, and upon whose face rested the smile of lovliness, 
had sunk quietely to seelp "to awake in the sunlight Land.' Possessing, as she 
did, the characteristics that adorn the full grown lady in the circle of 
society, combined with that simple, easy and innocent expression found only in 
the features of childhood, she was the admired of all who knew her. Gentle in 
her manners, mild in conversation, neat in appearance and industrious in her 
habits. She was extremely fond of books for one so tender in years. Her school 
days seemed to be to her, of all others, the brightest, and her standing in 
her classes and general deportment ever her associates. It has been truly 
said, "Death loves a shining mark." Fate with her unrelenting hand has plucked 
from the family one of the brightest flowers ere its tender petals and 
unfolded. 'Tis useless to attempt to tell the grief that has befallen the 
family of the deceased or the deep sympathy they command from a host of 
friends. Through their hearts flows the gushing torrent of grief which only 
those who have felt can know. In their bosom yawns the chasm of desolation 
that time cannot bridge, and in their hearts there gapes a wound that no 
earthly balm an heal. As the soft and pensive hour of evening comes calmly on, 
and one by one the family circle is formed, one will be wanting. One dear face 
will be absent. One familiar step will be heard no more in the hall. The 
autumn breeze that sings its low and requiem in the branches of the old locust 
beneath whose shade she so often sat, and the mellow sunbeam that plays on the 
walls of the vacant chamber, will each bring daily many cherished 
recollections of her, whose voice is now hushed and still as the stone by her 
grave. 

"You who fancy yourselves sheltered from the storms of death by the roof of 
vigorous health and feed the flame of life on the fuel of bright hopes and 
visionary dreams of the future, heed this sad but impressive writing.

"But let's turn from the sorrowing scene, and wipe from our eyes the tear of 
regret, for through the sorrow there streams a ray of consolation, and shines 
late the hearts even from the storm-fretted ocean of grief that bids the wild 
surging billows of tribulation, "Peace be still". The jewel of which the 
family has been robbed has lost none of its splendor. The precious flower, 
though wilted and withered by death, lives a fragrant odor in memory's garden, 
and will mingle with those of angels, and upon the little feet that completed 
so soon their earthly journey, will be placed the sandals of saints, where in 
the sanctuary of Jehovah, side by side with bright seraphs, they will tread 
the gem-decked aisles of the Celestial Temple. The hands now cold and 
motionless will touch the strings of the Golden Harp, and the myriads of the 
redeemed move in response to the melody. Sweet and precious the thought that 
when life's fretting bubble has burst, and death's dark river crossed, father, 
mother, brothers and sisters by leading a life pure as did little Annie may 
meet her again face to face down by the bright waters of eternal life. 


Submitted by: Sandi Gorin
http://www.genrecords.net/emailregistry/vols/00002.html#0000404



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