Delphos Carrier, Oct 1, 1886
Mr. and Mrs. Jas. T. Hoy's little girl, aged five years, died last Friday after a seven week's illness of typhoid fever.
IN MEMORY OF LITTLE NELLIE HOY
Today they cut the fragrant sod
With trembling hands asunder
To lay their well belov'd of God,
Our dear dead Nellie under.
Sleep, darling, sleep, cold rain shall steep
Thy little turf-made dwelling,
Thou wilt not know so far below
That winter storms are swelling.
Thy little lips no long lisp
The sacred name of 'Mother',
But in the cold and silent grave,
Will ever lie and smother;
Till God shall raise thy body up
To brighter regions far above.
To join the sacred spirit there
And bask in realms of richer love.
Dear Father, now thy will be done,
Our darling Nellie thou didst give,
To Thee we yield the precious one,
Take her to thine abode to live.
We'll meet her there in that bright clime,
Her lovely form again to clasp,
Where sorrows never dim the eye,
In everlasting love to bask,
The time will not be very long,
'Till then, dear Nellie, fare thee well,
We'll meet thee in that sunbright clime,
In realms of constant bliss to dwell.
Mr. and Mrs. Jas. T. Hoy's little girl, aged five years, died last Friday after a seven week's illness of typhoid fever.
IN MEMORY OF LITTLE NELLIE HOY
Today they cut the fragrant sod
With trembling hands asunder
To lay their well belov'd of God,
Our dear dead Nellie under.
Sleep, darling, sleep, cold rain shall steep
Thy little turf-made dwelling,
Thou wilt not know so far below
That winter storms are swelling.
Thy little lips no long lisp
The sacred name of 'Mother',
But in the cold and silent grave,
Will ever lie and smother;
Till God shall raise thy body up
To brighter regions far above.
To join the sacred spirit there
And bask in realms of richer love.
Dear Father, now thy will be done,
Our darling Nellie thou didst give,
To Thee we yield the precious one,
Take her to thine abode to live.
We'll meet her there in that bright clime,
Her lovely form again to clasp,
Where sorrows never dim the eye,
In everlasting love to bask,
The time will not be very long,
'Till then, dear Nellie, fare thee well,
We'll meet thee in that sunbright clime,
In realms of constant bliss to dwell.
Delphos Carrier, Oct 1, 1886
Mr. and Mrs. Jas. T. Hoy's little girl, aged five years, died last Friday after a seven week's illness of typhoid fever.
IN MEMORY OF LITTLE NELLIE HOY
Today they cut the fragrant sod
With trembling hands asunder
To lay their well belov'd of God,
Our dear dead Nellie under.
Sleep, darling, sleep, cold rain shall steep
Thy little turf-made dwelling,
Thou wilt not know so far below
That winter storms are swelling.
Thy little lips no long lisp
The sacred name of 'Mother',
But in the cold and silent grave,
Will ever lie and smother;
Till God shall raise thy body up
To brighter regions far above.
To join the sacred spirit there
And bask in realms of richer love.
Dear Father, now thy will be done,
Our darling Nellie thou didst give,
To Thee we yield the precious one,
Take her to thine abode to live.
We'll meet her there in that bright clime,
Her lovely form again to clasp,
Where sorrows never dim the eye,
In everlasting love to bask,
The time will not be very long,
'Till then, dear Nellie, fare thee well,
We'll meet thee in that sunbright clime,
In realms of constant bliss to dwell.
Mr. and Mrs. Jas. T. Hoy's little girl, aged five years, died last Friday after a seven week's illness of typhoid fever.
IN MEMORY OF LITTLE NELLIE HOY
Today they cut the fragrant sod
With trembling hands asunder
To lay their well belov'd of God,
Our dear dead Nellie under.
Sleep, darling, sleep, cold rain shall steep
Thy little turf-made dwelling,
Thou wilt not know so far below
That winter storms are swelling.
Thy little lips no long lisp
The sacred name of 'Mother',
But in the cold and silent grave,
Will ever lie and smother;
Till God shall raise thy body up
To brighter regions far above.
To join the sacred spirit there
And bask in realms of richer love.
Dear Father, now thy will be done,
Our darling Nellie thou didst give,
To Thee we yield the precious one,
Take her to thine abode to live.
We'll meet her there in that bright clime,
Her lovely form again to clasp,
Where sorrows never dim the eye,
In everlasting love to bask,
The time will not be very long,
'Till then, dear Nellie, fare thee well,
We'll meet thee in that sunbright clime,
In realms of constant bliss to dwell.
Gravesite Details
Buried next to her grandmother, Susan Sage Nelson
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