In Memory.
After the last efforts of human hands had been exhausted, death came to relieve the pin as God claimed the soul of little Helen Etoyle, the infant daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Chas. H. Lord, on June 24, 1915. Etoyle's sweet presence had blessed this home and life a little legs than seventeen months. The beautiful blossom comes forth in the morning just as it begins to an-fold its delicate petals and give out its refreshing perfume, it is plucked away to join in a nice bouquet. Like this, the litt'e ones come among us and just as they have begun to unfold unto as their sweet lives, entwine their little arms about our neck, and fasten their affection to the tenderest of the tender chords of our hearts, they are plucked from our midst to adorn the more adorable host above. Death is sad either among those oldest in years and even the tendest infants. Tho' we miss little Etoyle so much and our hearts are made sad to part with her, yet we know that it was the will of him who gave her to take her back again. We know that she has not missed any joy or happiness in this world being in Heaven. But instead, ere her little heart had learned to suffer, ere she knew any of the horrors of sin, regret, sorrow and disappointments of this wicked life, like a rose plucked from among the briars and thorns, she was taken from among the awful realities of this life into the realms of bliss and joy and peace. Her sweet spirit has gone and cannot return but we can go to her. Then-We shall meet in the land where spring is eternal, Where darkness ne'er cometh no sorrow nor pain.; Where the flowers never fade in that clime ever vernal, We shall meet, and our parting be never again.
UNCLE GUY.
After the last efforts of human hands had been exhausted, death came to relieve the pin as God claimed the soul of little Helen Etoyle, the infant daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Chas. H. Lord, on June 24, 1915. Etoyle's sweet presence had blessed this home and life a little legs than seventeen months. The beautiful blossom comes forth in the morning just as it begins to an-fold its delicate petals and give out its refreshing perfume, it is plucked away to join in a nice bouquet. Like this, the litt'e ones come among us and just as they have begun to unfold unto as their sweet lives, entwine their little arms about our neck, and fasten their affection to the tenderest of the tender chords of our hearts, they are plucked from our midst to adorn the more adorable host above. Death is sad either among those oldest in years and even the tendest infants. Tho' we miss little Etoyle so much and our hearts are made sad to part with her, yet we know that it was the will of him who gave her to take her back again. We know that she has not missed any joy or happiness in this world being in Heaven. But instead, ere her little heart had learned to suffer, ere she knew any of the horrors of sin, regret, sorrow and disappointments of this wicked life, like a rose plucked from among the briars and thorns, she was taken from among the awful realities of this life into the realms of bliss and joy and peace. Her sweet spirit has gone and cannot return but we can go to her. Then-We shall meet in the land where spring is eternal, Where darkness ne'er cometh no sorrow nor pain.; Where the flowers never fade in that clime ever vernal, We shall meet, and our parting be never again.
UNCLE GUY.
In Memory.
After the last efforts of human hands had been exhausted, death came to relieve the pin as God claimed the soul of little Helen Etoyle, the infant daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Chas. H. Lord, on June 24, 1915. Etoyle's sweet presence had blessed this home and life a little legs than seventeen months. The beautiful blossom comes forth in the morning just as it begins to an-fold its delicate petals and give out its refreshing perfume, it is plucked away to join in a nice bouquet. Like this, the litt'e ones come among us and just as they have begun to unfold unto as their sweet lives, entwine their little arms about our neck, and fasten their affection to the tenderest of the tender chords of our hearts, they are plucked from our midst to adorn the more adorable host above. Death is sad either among those oldest in years and even the tendest infants. Tho' we miss little Etoyle so much and our hearts are made sad to part with her, yet we know that it was the will of him who gave her to take her back again. We know that she has not missed any joy or happiness in this world being in Heaven. But instead, ere her little heart had learned to suffer, ere she knew any of the horrors of sin, regret, sorrow and disappointments of this wicked life, like a rose plucked from among the briars and thorns, she was taken from among the awful realities of this life into the realms of bliss and joy and peace. Her sweet spirit has gone and cannot return but we can go to her. Then-We shall meet in the land where spring is eternal, Where darkness ne'er cometh no sorrow nor pain.; Where the flowers never fade in that clime ever vernal, We shall meet, and our parting be never again.
UNCLE GUY.
After the last efforts of human hands had been exhausted, death came to relieve the pin as God claimed the soul of little Helen Etoyle, the infant daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Chas. H. Lord, on June 24, 1915. Etoyle's sweet presence had blessed this home and life a little legs than seventeen months. The beautiful blossom comes forth in the morning just as it begins to an-fold its delicate petals and give out its refreshing perfume, it is plucked away to join in a nice bouquet. Like this, the litt'e ones come among us and just as they have begun to unfold unto as their sweet lives, entwine their little arms about our neck, and fasten their affection to the tenderest of the tender chords of our hearts, they are plucked from our midst to adorn the more adorable host above. Death is sad either among those oldest in years and even the tendest infants. Tho' we miss little Etoyle so much and our hearts are made sad to part with her, yet we know that it was the will of him who gave her to take her back again. We know that she has not missed any joy or happiness in this world being in Heaven. But instead, ere her little heart had learned to suffer, ere she knew any of the horrors of sin, regret, sorrow and disappointments of this wicked life, like a rose plucked from among the briars and thorns, she was taken from among the awful realities of this life into the realms of bliss and joy and peace. Her sweet spirit has gone and cannot return but we can go to her. Then-We shall meet in the land where spring is eternal, Where darkness ne'er cometh no sorrow nor pain.; Where the flowers never fade in that clime ever vernal, We shall meet, and our parting be never again.
UNCLE GUY.
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