Breckinridge News, Cloverport, Kentucky
March 23, 1892
A Tribute to My Departed Friend
As the sun was gently sinking in the West, on Wednesday eve March 9, '92, the sprit of our beloved winged at its flight to that better shore, and our loss was the death of Mrs. Jennie Smart Simons, aged 45 years. Her health for some time had been gradually failing. The death of her mother and brother, some months ago, was such a shock to her that she never really recovered, and since then had been gradually fading away.
Only a few days and a happy home was rendered desolate, for the one who made it radiant was removed from its midst. Only a few days, but oh! to those who loved her best it has seemed a century of sorrow. Jennie's presence brouht with it ever a breezy brightness, a pervasive richness and radiance of beauty. Like the completeness of a June morning, when the glow and the frangrance aught save a sunshine of the hour. But she is gone - She leaves a kind husband, one son, an adopted daughter, four brothers and a host of friends who will ever miss her, and none more than the writer. No task have I ever performed in life that was more difficult than wirting this, the last sad tribute I can pay to one I loved so dearly. She was nearer than a friend to me - our joys and sorrows were always shared together, and in her home I have spent many happy hours. The community has lost one whose place can never be filled. When we attempt to tell of her noble qualities, of her many noble deeds of charity and love for suffering humanity, and to speak of the universal esteem in which she was held by every one, no language befitting the occassion comes to our relief. A noble son has lost the care of an idolized mother. A husband a companion who has stood by him in adversity and helped him through the rough paths of life, and now that all is properity and they had a lovely home, He who does all things for the best, has taken her to join her parents and brothers and left us for only a short time, for soon we will join her. It seems hard to give up one who was so much needed here, and, when we recall her, 'tis the joyousness of her ringing laugh, the rare humor of her quick and ready remark, the merry harmless jest, the responsiveness to all things bright and gay and pure, these and finer traits that marked her womanly and true, come back to us with a mingling of happy and pathetic, making our hearts cry with longing for her.
Jennie's life was brief, yet very full. Crowded into its few short years was more of adulation, more of sincere affection, more of the joy of living, than comes to many in this world of ours. And now that the sweet life is ended on its earth-side, there has passed with it much of the sunshine, very much of the brightness out of other homes as well as her own; for her gential nature knew no distinction of high and low, but numbered friends many and of all degrees.
There is a lost cord in the harmony of the home music; the fullest, richest chord of all is hushed, and there will ever be a minor tone of sadness there, even when the requiem shall have ceased. But there is a reverse side even to this shadowed picture, gilding the sorrow and the longing in the glad hope of re-union when with her we shall greet the many loved one's on that further shore. Especially do we thus quiet ourselves when with memory of Jennie are blended gentless, holiest thoughts of the saintly, dear one, behing whose angelic form the gates will still ajar, when Jennie entered. We will be patient and assurage the felling.
We may not wholly stay
by slience sanctifying, not concealing,
the grief that must have way.
Blanch A. Frank
Tobinsport, Ind.
March 23, 1892
A Tribute to My Departed Friend
As the sun was gently sinking in the West, on Wednesday eve March 9, '92, the sprit of our beloved winged at its flight to that better shore, and our loss was the death of Mrs. Jennie Smart Simons, aged 45 years. Her health for some time had been gradually failing. The death of her mother and brother, some months ago, was such a shock to her that she never really recovered, and since then had been gradually fading away.
Only a few days and a happy home was rendered desolate, for the one who made it radiant was removed from its midst. Only a few days, but oh! to those who loved her best it has seemed a century of sorrow. Jennie's presence brouht with it ever a breezy brightness, a pervasive richness and radiance of beauty. Like the completeness of a June morning, when the glow and the frangrance aught save a sunshine of the hour. But she is gone - She leaves a kind husband, one son, an adopted daughter, four brothers and a host of friends who will ever miss her, and none more than the writer. No task have I ever performed in life that was more difficult than wirting this, the last sad tribute I can pay to one I loved so dearly. She was nearer than a friend to me - our joys and sorrows were always shared together, and in her home I have spent many happy hours. The community has lost one whose place can never be filled. When we attempt to tell of her noble qualities, of her many noble deeds of charity and love for suffering humanity, and to speak of the universal esteem in which she was held by every one, no language befitting the occassion comes to our relief. A noble son has lost the care of an idolized mother. A husband a companion who has stood by him in adversity and helped him through the rough paths of life, and now that all is properity and they had a lovely home, He who does all things for the best, has taken her to join her parents and brothers and left us for only a short time, for soon we will join her. It seems hard to give up one who was so much needed here, and, when we recall her, 'tis the joyousness of her ringing laugh, the rare humor of her quick and ready remark, the merry harmless jest, the responsiveness to all things bright and gay and pure, these and finer traits that marked her womanly and true, come back to us with a mingling of happy and pathetic, making our hearts cry with longing for her.
Jennie's life was brief, yet very full. Crowded into its few short years was more of adulation, more of sincere affection, more of the joy of living, than comes to many in this world of ours. And now that the sweet life is ended on its earth-side, there has passed with it much of the sunshine, very much of the brightness out of other homes as well as her own; for her gential nature knew no distinction of high and low, but numbered friends many and of all degrees.
There is a lost cord in the harmony of the home music; the fullest, richest chord of all is hushed, and there will ever be a minor tone of sadness there, even when the requiem shall have ceased. But there is a reverse side even to this shadowed picture, gilding the sorrow and the longing in the glad hope of re-union when with her we shall greet the many loved one's on that further shore. Especially do we thus quiet ourselves when with memory of Jennie are blended gentless, holiest thoughts of the saintly, dear one, behing whose angelic form the gates will still ajar, when Jennie entered. We will be patient and assurage the felling.
We may not wholly stay
by slience sanctifying, not concealing,
the grief that must have way.
Blanch A. Frank
Tobinsport, Ind.
Breckinridge News, Cloverport, Kentucky
March 23, 1892
A Tribute to My Departed Friend
As the sun was gently sinking in the West, on Wednesday eve March 9, '92, the sprit of our beloved winged at its flight to that better shore, and our loss was the death of Mrs. Jennie Smart Simons, aged 45 years. Her health for some time had been gradually failing. The death of her mother and brother, some months ago, was such a shock to her that she never really recovered, and since then had been gradually fading away.
Only a few days and a happy home was rendered desolate, for the one who made it radiant was removed from its midst. Only a few days, but oh! to those who loved her best it has seemed a century of sorrow. Jennie's presence brouht with it ever a breezy brightness, a pervasive richness and radiance of beauty. Like the completeness of a June morning, when the glow and the frangrance aught save a sunshine of the hour. But she is gone - She leaves a kind husband, one son, an adopted daughter, four brothers and a host of friends who will ever miss her, and none more than the writer. No task have I ever performed in life that was more difficult than wirting this, the last sad tribute I can pay to one I loved so dearly. She was nearer than a friend to me - our joys and sorrows were always shared together, and in her home I have spent many happy hours. The community has lost one whose place can never be filled. When we attempt to tell of her noble qualities, of her many noble deeds of charity and love for suffering humanity, and to speak of the universal esteem in which she was held by every one, no language befitting the occassion comes to our relief. A noble son has lost the care of an idolized mother. A husband a companion who has stood by him in adversity and helped him through the rough paths of life, and now that all is properity and they had a lovely home, He who does all things for the best, has taken her to join her parents and brothers and left us for only a short time, for soon we will join her. It seems hard to give up one who was so much needed here, and, when we recall her, 'tis the joyousness of her ringing laugh, the rare humor of her quick and ready remark, the merry harmless jest, the responsiveness to all things bright and gay and pure, these and finer traits that marked her womanly and true, come back to us with a mingling of happy and pathetic, making our hearts cry with longing for her.
Jennie's life was brief, yet very full. Crowded into its few short years was more of adulation, more of sincere affection, more of the joy of living, than comes to many in this world of ours. And now that the sweet life is ended on its earth-side, there has passed with it much of the sunshine, very much of the brightness out of other homes as well as her own; for her gential nature knew no distinction of high and low, but numbered friends many and of all degrees.
There is a lost cord in the harmony of the home music; the fullest, richest chord of all is hushed, and there will ever be a minor tone of sadness there, even when the requiem shall have ceased. But there is a reverse side even to this shadowed picture, gilding the sorrow and the longing in the glad hope of re-union when with her we shall greet the many loved one's on that further shore. Especially do we thus quiet ourselves when with memory of Jennie are blended gentless, holiest thoughts of the saintly, dear one, behing whose angelic form the gates will still ajar, when Jennie entered. We will be patient and assurage the felling.
We may not wholly stay
by slience sanctifying, not concealing,
the grief that must have way.
Blanch A. Frank
Tobinsport, Ind.
March 23, 1892
A Tribute to My Departed Friend
As the sun was gently sinking in the West, on Wednesday eve March 9, '92, the sprit of our beloved winged at its flight to that better shore, and our loss was the death of Mrs. Jennie Smart Simons, aged 45 years. Her health for some time had been gradually failing. The death of her mother and brother, some months ago, was such a shock to her that she never really recovered, and since then had been gradually fading away.
Only a few days and a happy home was rendered desolate, for the one who made it radiant was removed from its midst. Only a few days, but oh! to those who loved her best it has seemed a century of sorrow. Jennie's presence brouht with it ever a breezy brightness, a pervasive richness and radiance of beauty. Like the completeness of a June morning, when the glow and the frangrance aught save a sunshine of the hour. But she is gone - She leaves a kind husband, one son, an adopted daughter, four brothers and a host of friends who will ever miss her, and none more than the writer. No task have I ever performed in life that was more difficult than wirting this, the last sad tribute I can pay to one I loved so dearly. She was nearer than a friend to me - our joys and sorrows were always shared together, and in her home I have spent many happy hours. The community has lost one whose place can never be filled. When we attempt to tell of her noble qualities, of her many noble deeds of charity and love for suffering humanity, and to speak of the universal esteem in which she was held by every one, no language befitting the occassion comes to our relief. A noble son has lost the care of an idolized mother. A husband a companion who has stood by him in adversity and helped him through the rough paths of life, and now that all is properity and they had a lovely home, He who does all things for the best, has taken her to join her parents and brothers and left us for only a short time, for soon we will join her. It seems hard to give up one who was so much needed here, and, when we recall her, 'tis the joyousness of her ringing laugh, the rare humor of her quick and ready remark, the merry harmless jest, the responsiveness to all things bright and gay and pure, these and finer traits that marked her womanly and true, come back to us with a mingling of happy and pathetic, making our hearts cry with longing for her.
Jennie's life was brief, yet very full. Crowded into its few short years was more of adulation, more of sincere affection, more of the joy of living, than comes to many in this world of ours. And now that the sweet life is ended on its earth-side, there has passed with it much of the sunshine, very much of the brightness out of other homes as well as her own; for her gential nature knew no distinction of high and low, but numbered friends many and of all degrees.
There is a lost cord in the harmony of the home music; the fullest, richest chord of all is hushed, and there will ever be a minor tone of sadness there, even when the requiem shall have ceased. But there is a reverse side even to this shadowed picture, gilding the sorrow and the longing in the glad hope of re-union when with her we shall greet the many loved one's on that further shore. Especially do we thus quiet ourselves when with memory of Jennie are blended gentless, holiest thoughts of the saintly, dear one, behing whose angelic form the gates will still ajar, when Jennie entered. We will be patient and assurage the felling.
We may not wholly stay
by slience sanctifying, not concealing,
the grief that must have way.
Blanch A. Frank
Tobinsport, Ind.
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