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 Lyle Mayo Shields

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Lyle Mayo Shields

Birth
Death
23 Jul 1884 (aged less–than 1 year)
Blair, Washington County, Nebraska, USA
Burial
Blair, Washington County, Nebraska, USA
Plot
Block: 46 Lot: 10 Grave: 6
Memorial ID
105400060 View Source

Obituary printed in the July 31, 1884 Republican, Blair, Nebraska

Transition

Passed on to his celestial home, from the city of Blair, on the 23d of July, 1884, Lyle Mayo, only child of Herman and Edith Sprague Shields, aged 7 months.

This little bud of immortal purity and innocence, so recently born into this beautiful world, so young and promising, and so early bereft of its loving and noble mother, has now followed her to the fairer home over the river that separates the angel land from ours.

Immediately after the mother took her exit from earth, which was only a short time after little Lyle was born, he was taken to the home of his grandparents (on the mother's side) , where he tarried on during his brief stay on earth; and became the beloved pet of the family, and under their fostering and loving care, the dear little fellow developed very rapidly in physical beauty and mental brilliancy, so much so as to call out complimentary remarks from all who knew the little one. But now, and O how suddenly and unexpectedly when prospects were bright and fair, the precious little darling has bowed to the blast of disease, left the vase behind, and gone to the sweet embrace of his angel mother.

Yes, on the afternoon already mentioned, the vase failed to be of any longer use to the immortal spirit within and had to succumb, and the jewel was borne to the beautiful bowers of peace and joyous rest up higher. Everything that medical skill and constant, kindly car on the part of the family and the many generous, noble souled neighbors, that could be done, was fully carried out to restore the physical form to health, but that inexorable disease (summer complaint so fatal to children) gained the victory, and the blow was signally severe to the young and lonely father, grandparents, and all the family on both sides.

The funeral services were rendered at the place of the child's decease in the presence of a large gathering of sorrowing relatives and sympathizing friends, the writer officiating; and after the singing of two very beautiful hymns by a volunteer choir, we spent some twenty-five minutes in impromptu remarks, then closed with the following beautiful and appropriate poetical gem from the brain and pen of W.H. Savage of Massachusetts.

Child with the snowy cheek,
Child with the stainless brow,
Thy white robed form and look so meek
Are as an angel's now.

Death's mystery hath cast
Its strangeness o'er thy face,
But the angel marred not, as he passed,
One line of its tender grace.

He just folded the waxen hands----
Sent sleep to the gladsome eyes,
And wrapped them round with the viewless bands
Of Sleep's great, still surprise.

Now into the upper life,
Into realms of infinite peace,
Thou hast entered at once, untouched by the strife
That comes with our life's increase.

Into the infinite love,
Into the cloudless light,
Into the welcome that waited above---
Below thee, the storm and night.

Saved from the toilsome way
We travel with weary feet,
From the bitterness hid in the cup always,
Whose first taste is so sweet.

For you, there is gladness and rest
Where the white robed singers stand,
Where pain is forgotten and sorrow is blest,
In the soul's own fatherland;

Where the little ones of earth,
In gardens and meadows broad,
Wandering and playing, making musical mirth
By the sweet flowing river of God.

This night into morning will change,
As the light of that land comes out,
And a rapture sudden and sweet and strange,
Succeed to our trouble and doubt.

Oh, blessed and strong and sweet,
The hope of that coming time,
When thy welcoming hands our hands shall meet,
In the gate of the life sublime

In the gate of the City of God;
In the gate of the Infinite Peace;
In the sweet dawn-light that shall shine above,
O'er the fields of our love's increase.


After a few and closing remarks, a last and farewell look at the sleeping vase was taken by kindred and friends, and the little white casket containing the still beautiful shard, was borne to the city cemetery, followed by a large procession of kindred and sympathizing friends and neighbors, and there put to rest in its little grave-bed. May the comforting power and influence of all that is capable of giving it, console the sad hearts of all the sorrowing family.
---M.E. Taylor
Blair, Neb., July 25, 1884

~~~Obituary courtesy of the Washington County Genealogical Society as transcribed by Mrs B. Newspaper clippings on file in the Blair, Nebraska library. ~~~

♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ

Obituary printed in the July 31, 1884 Republican, Blair, Nebraska

Transition

Passed on to his celestial home, from the city of Blair, on the 23d of July, 1884, Lyle Mayo, only child of Herman and Edith Sprague Shields, aged 7 months.

This little bud of immortal purity and innocence, so recently born into this beautiful world, so young and promising, and so early bereft of its loving and noble mother, has now followed her to the fairer home over the river that separates the angel land from ours.

Immediately after the mother took her exit from earth, which was only a short time after little Lyle was born, he was taken to the home of his grandparents (on the mother's side) , where he tarried on during his brief stay on earth; and became the beloved pet of the family, and under their fostering and loving care, the dear little fellow developed very rapidly in physical beauty and mental brilliancy, so much so as to call out complimentary remarks from all who knew the little one. But now, and O how suddenly and unexpectedly when prospects were bright and fair, the precious little darling has bowed to the blast of disease, left the vase behind, and gone to the sweet embrace of his angel mother.

Yes, on the afternoon already mentioned, the vase failed to be of any longer use to the immortal spirit within and had to succumb, and the jewel was borne to the beautiful bowers of peace and joyous rest up higher. Everything that medical skill and constant, kindly car on the part of the family and the many generous, noble souled neighbors, that could be done, was fully carried out to restore the physical form to health, but that inexorable disease (summer complaint so fatal to children) gained the victory, and the blow was signally severe to the young and lonely father, grandparents, and all the family on both sides.

The funeral services were rendered at the place of the child's decease in the presence of a large gathering of sorrowing relatives and sympathizing friends, the writer officiating; and after the singing of two very beautiful hymns by a volunteer choir, we spent some twenty-five minutes in impromptu remarks, then closed with the following beautiful and appropriate poetical gem from the brain and pen of W.H. Savage of Massachusetts.

Child with the snowy cheek,
Child with the stainless brow,
Thy white robed form and look so meek
Are as an angel's now.

Death's mystery hath cast
Its strangeness o'er thy face,
But the angel marred not, as he passed,
One line of its tender grace.

He just folded the waxen hands----
Sent sleep to the gladsome eyes,
And wrapped them round with the viewless bands
Of Sleep's great, still surprise.

Now into the upper life,
Into realms of infinite peace,
Thou hast entered at once, untouched by the strife
That comes with our life's increase.

Into the infinite love,
Into the cloudless light,
Into the welcome that waited above---
Below thee, the storm and night.

Saved from the toilsome way
We travel with weary feet,
From the bitterness hid in the cup always,
Whose first taste is so sweet.

For you, there is gladness and rest
Where the white robed singers stand,
Where pain is forgotten and sorrow is blest,
In the soul's own fatherland;

Where the little ones of earth,
In gardens and meadows broad,
Wandering and playing, making musical mirth
By the sweet flowing river of God.

This night into morning will change,
As the light of that land comes out,
And a rapture sudden and sweet and strange,
Succeed to our trouble and doubt.

Oh, blessed and strong and sweet,
The hope of that coming time,
When thy welcoming hands our hands shall meet,
In the gate of the life sublime

In the gate of the City of God;
In the gate of the Infinite Peace;
In the sweet dawn-light that shall shine above,
O'er the fields of our love's increase.


After a few and closing remarks, a last and farewell look at the sleeping vase was taken by kindred and friends, and the little white casket containing the still beautiful shard, was borne to the city cemetery, followed by a large procession of kindred and sympathizing friends and neighbors, and there put to rest in its little grave-bed. May the comforting power and influence of all that is capable of giving it, console the sad hearts of all the sorrowing family.
---M.E. Taylor
Blair, Neb., July 25, 1884

~~~Obituary courtesy of the Washington County Genealogical Society as transcribed by Mrs B. Newspaper clippings on file in the Blair, Nebraska library. ~~~

♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ♥ღ


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