Inscription
Son of George and Elisabeth Rufe
Charlie is dead! Ah! cruel death,
Tears from our arms a lovely youth;
His body, now beneath the ground,
Awaits the trumpets waking sound.
While he was here, we loved himwell
Now he is gone, we love him still;
We love his home in heaven above
Where all is peace and joy & love.
His gentle spirit, hovering round,
Will whisper oft, in he'venly aound.
Father, be good, and you shall meet
Your Charlie yet, at Jesus' feet.
Mother, here's bliss, [rest illegible]
And Jesus doeth all [rest illegible]
No sickness here [rest illegible]
O, Mother [rest illegible]
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