Mrs. Amy A. Hoag is the daughter of Nathan and Amy (Aldrich) Pierce, natives respectively of Berkshire County, Mass., and Rhode Island.
A Long Life, Well Spent—A Noble Woman, Well Respected—The Ending,
Well Filled With Peace and Rest.
Mrs. Amy Aldrich Hoag, who wrote under the pseudonym of "Hope", was born in New York state, October 27th, 1830. At about the age of 10 years, she came with her parents to a farm in Chelsea, when Michigan was young and neighbors consisted mostly of the wild things of the forests. During the early part of her girlhood a change was made and Marengo was her farm home. Her tastes being literary, she soon became a teacher, in which profession she was successful to the extent, that in later years her pupils acknowledged to her that to the impetus she gave them, their best efforts and successes were attributable. Her parentage was such that she had a strong liking for the Quakers, and although for sixty years a member of the M. E. church, she always looked toward the Quakers as to the fountain head of the faith that never failed her in the love and guardianship of the Heavenly Father. Sometime in her later twenties she was married to Peter G. Hoag, also a Quaker and the two journeyed down through life with a love for and a trust in each other that was the admiration of all their neighbors. When she was about forty the farm life became too hard and her husband sold a nice farm and came to Otsego, where she lived and served and loved till old age brought suffering. Then it was that her faith stood by and with patience she has borne pain and suffering and even the loss of her faithful husband until the whole community felt a love and friendliness for her that was gratifying in the extreme. Her passing on Tuesday, June 27th at the age of eighty-five years and eight months, is marked by the sentiment universally expressed as before mentioned: A long life, well spent—a noble woman, well respected—the ending, well filled with peace and rest. Her poems have been read and enjoyed all over the state. The following poem written by Mrs. Hoag, aptly describes her thought of heaven, the home her spirit has gone to claim:
Heaven is not some distant place.
But dwells within and moulds us.
The light that shone on Moses' face
May even our own foreheads grace,
Whenever love controls us.
It stands at parting of the ways,
And strives to woo and win us;
Thro' darkest nights it sends its rays,
Sheds its glad light on all our days,
And builds the kingdom in us.
We need not go to distant marts.
Nor spend our all to get it.
It stoops to soothe our daily smarts;
Its peace would always rule our hearts
If we would only lot it.
And when the grave receives the clay,
Death shall not lead us blindly,
For He who's led us all the way,
Our fire by night, our cloud by day.
Proves Pilot safe and kindly.
The funeral was held this afternoon, conducted by Rev. F. M. Taylor of the M. E. church. Burial in Mountain Home cemetery.
From The Otsego Union June 29, 1916.
A Long Life, Well Spent—A Noble Woman, Well Respected—The Ending,
Well Filled With Peace and Rest.
Mrs. Amy Aldrich Hoag, who wrote under the pseudonym of "Hope", was born in New York state, October 27th, 1830. At about the age of 10 years, she came with her parents to a farm in Chelsea, when Michigan was young and neighbors consisted mostly of the wild things of the forests. During the early part of her girlhood a change was made and Marengo was her farm home. Her tastes being literary, she soon became a teacher, in which profession she was successful to the extent, that in later years her pupils acknowledged to her that to the impetus she gave them, their best efforts and successes were attributable. Her parentage was such that she had a strong liking for the Quakers, and although for sixty years a member of the M. E. church, she always looked toward the Quakers as to the fountain head of the faith that never failed her in the love and guardianship of the Heavenly Father. Sometime in her later twenties she was married to Peter G. Hoag, also a Quaker and the two journeyed down through life with a love for and a trust in each other that was the admiration of all their neighbors. When she was about forty the farm life became too hard and her husband sold a nice farm and came to Otsego, where she lived and served and loved till old age brought suffering. Then it was that her faith stood by and with patience she has borne pain and suffering and even the loss of her faithful husband until the whole community felt a love and friendliness for her that was gratifying in the extreme. Her passing on Tuesday, June 27th at the age of eighty-five years and eight months, is marked by the sentiment universally expressed as before mentioned: A long life, well spent—a noble woman, well respected—the ending, well filled with peace and rest. Her poems have been read and enjoyed all over the state. The following poem written by Mrs. Hoag, aptly describes her thought of heaven, the home her spirit has gone to claim:
Heaven is not some distant place.
But dwells within and moulds us.
The light that shone on Moses' face
May even our own foreheads grace,
Whenever love controls us.
It stands at parting of the ways,
And strives to woo and win us;
Thro' darkest nights it sends its rays,
Sheds its glad light on all our days,
And builds the kingdom in us.
We need not go to distant marts.
Nor spend our all to get it.
It stoops to soothe our daily smarts;
Its peace would always rule our hearts
If we would only lot it.
And when the grave receives the clay,
Death shall not lead us blindly,
For He who's led us all the way,
Our fire by night, our cloud by day.
Proves Pilot safe and kindly.
The funeral was held this afternoon, conducted by Rev. F. M. Taylor of the M. E. church. Burial in Mountain Home cemetery.
From The Otsego Union June 29, 1916.
Mrs. Amy A. Hoag is the daughter of Nathan and Amy (Aldrich) Pierce, natives respectively of Berkshire County, Mass., and Rhode Island.
A Long Life, Well Spent—A Noble Woman, Well Respected—The Ending,
Well Filled With Peace and Rest.
Mrs. Amy Aldrich Hoag, who wrote under the pseudonym of "Hope", was born in New York state, October 27th, 1830. At about the age of 10 years, she came with her parents to a farm in Chelsea, when Michigan was young and neighbors consisted mostly of the wild things of the forests. During the early part of her girlhood a change was made and Marengo was her farm home. Her tastes being literary, she soon became a teacher, in which profession she was successful to the extent, that in later years her pupils acknowledged to her that to the impetus she gave them, their best efforts and successes were attributable. Her parentage was such that she had a strong liking for the Quakers, and although for sixty years a member of the M. E. church, she always looked toward the Quakers as to the fountain head of the faith that never failed her in the love and guardianship of the Heavenly Father. Sometime in her later twenties she was married to Peter G. Hoag, also a Quaker and the two journeyed down through life with a love for and a trust in each other that was the admiration of all their neighbors. When she was about forty the farm life became too hard and her husband sold a nice farm and came to Otsego, where she lived and served and loved till old age brought suffering. Then it was that her faith stood by and with patience she has borne pain and suffering and even the loss of her faithful husband until the whole community felt a love and friendliness for her that was gratifying in the extreme. Her passing on Tuesday, June 27th at the age of eighty-five years and eight months, is marked by the sentiment universally expressed as before mentioned: A long life, well spent—a noble woman, well respected—the ending, well filled with peace and rest. Her poems have been read and enjoyed all over the state. The following poem written by Mrs. Hoag, aptly describes her thought of heaven, the home her spirit has gone to claim:
Heaven is not some distant place.
But dwells within and moulds us.
The light that shone on Moses' face
May even our own foreheads grace,
Whenever love controls us.
It stands at parting of the ways,
And strives to woo and win us;
Thro' darkest nights it sends its rays,
Sheds its glad light on all our days,
And builds the kingdom in us.
We need not go to distant marts.
Nor spend our all to get it.
It stoops to soothe our daily smarts;
Its peace would always rule our hearts
If we would only lot it.
And when the grave receives the clay,
Death shall not lead us blindly,
For He who's led us all the way,
Our fire by night, our cloud by day.
Proves Pilot safe and kindly.
The funeral was held this afternoon, conducted by Rev. F. M. Taylor of the M. E. church. Burial in Mountain Home cemetery.
From The Otsego Union June 29, 1916.
A Long Life, Well Spent—A Noble Woman, Well Respected—The Ending,
Well Filled With Peace and Rest.
Mrs. Amy Aldrich Hoag, who wrote under the pseudonym of "Hope", was born in New York state, October 27th, 1830. At about the age of 10 years, she came with her parents to a farm in Chelsea, when Michigan was young and neighbors consisted mostly of the wild things of the forests. During the early part of her girlhood a change was made and Marengo was her farm home. Her tastes being literary, she soon became a teacher, in which profession she was successful to the extent, that in later years her pupils acknowledged to her that to the impetus she gave them, their best efforts and successes were attributable. Her parentage was such that she had a strong liking for the Quakers, and although for sixty years a member of the M. E. church, she always looked toward the Quakers as to the fountain head of the faith that never failed her in the love and guardianship of the Heavenly Father. Sometime in her later twenties she was married to Peter G. Hoag, also a Quaker and the two journeyed down through life with a love for and a trust in each other that was the admiration of all their neighbors. When she was about forty the farm life became too hard and her husband sold a nice farm and came to Otsego, where she lived and served and loved till old age brought suffering. Then it was that her faith stood by and with patience she has borne pain and suffering and even the loss of her faithful husband until the whole community felt a love and friendliness for her that was gratifying in the extreme. Her passing on Tuesday, June 27th at the age of eighty-five years and eight months, is marked by the sentiment universally expressed as before mentioned: A long life, well spent—a noble woman, well respected—the ending, well filled with peace and rest. Her poems have been read and enjoyed all over the state. The following poem written by Mrs. Hoag, aptly describes her thought of heaven, the home her spirit has gone to claim:
Heaven is not some distant place.
But dwells within and moulds us.
The light that shone on Moses' face
May even our own foreheads grace,
Whenever love controls us.
It stands at parting of the ways,
And strives to woo and win us;
Thro' darkest nights it sends its rays,
Sheds its glad light on all our days,
And builds the kingdom in us.
We need not go to distant marts.
Nor spend our all to get it.
It stoops to soothe our daily smarts;
Its peace would always rule our hearts
If we would only lot it.
And when the grave receives the clay,
Death shall not lead us blindly,
For He who's led us all the way,
Our fire by night, our cloud by day.
Proves Pilot safe and kindly.
The funeral was held this afternoon, conducted by Rev. F. M. Taylor of the M. E. church. Burial in Mountain Home cemetery.
From The Otsego Union June 29, 1916.
Family Members
Sponsored by Ancestry
Advertisement
Advertisement
