Sarah Roush
Sarah Roush, wife of Moses Roush, was born in West Virginia, April 2d, 1814, and died at her home near Eno, O., Feb. 12, 1892, aged 77 years, 9 months and 17 days. She leaves a husband, seven sons and two daughters to mourn their loss, and two daughters who survive her in another world. She lived to see the wilderness bud and blossom as the rose. She was a faithful Christian until death, loved by all who knew her, kind and affectionate to one and all.
We miss you here, dear grandmother. But our loss is their eternal gain. To mortal mind it would seem that such a gentle, kind-hearted grandmother could not be spared from among us. Yet God knew best. Therefore, all must unite in saying: Thy will be done.
Then let our sorrows cease to flow,
God has recalled His own;
But let our hearts in every woe
Still say: Thy will be done.
Jesus, while our hearts are bleeding
O'er the spoils that death has won,
We would at this solemn meeting
Calmly say: Thy will be done.
Though cast down, we're not forsaken,
Though afflicted, not alone;
Thou didst give, and thou hast taken,
Blessed Lord, Thy will be done.
A precious one from us has gone,
The one we loved so dear,
A place is vacant in our home,
Which never can be filled. Linda Roush
Gallipolis Bulletin
March 5, 1892.
Transcribed by Henny Evans
Sarah Roush
Sarah Roush, wife of Moses Roush, was born in West Virginia, April 2d, 1814, and died at her home near Eno, O., Feb. 12, 1892, aged 77 years, 9 months and 17 days. She leaves a husband, seven sons and two daughters to mourn their loss, and two daughters who survive her in another world. She lived to see the wilderness bud and blossom as the rose. She was a faithful Christian until death, loved by all who knew her, kind and affectionate to one and all.
We miss you here, dear grandmother. But our loss is their eternal gain. To mortal mind it would seem that such a gentle, kind-hearted grandmother could not be spared from among us. Yet God knew best. Therefore, all must unite in saying: Thy will be done.
Then let our sorrows cease to flow,
God has recalled His own;
But let our hearts in every woe
Still say: Thy will be done.
Jesus, while our hearts are bleeding
O'er the spoils that death has won,
We would at this solemn meeting
Calmly say: Thy will be done.
Though cast down, we're not forsaken,
Though afflicted, not alone;
Thou didst give, and thou hast taken,
Blessed Lord, Thy will be done.
A precious one from us has gone,
The one we loved so dear,
A place is vacant in our home,
Which never can be filled. Linda Roush
Gallipolis Bulletin
March 5, 1892.
Transcribed by Henny Evans
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