Little Clyde, infant son of JF and Alice Ellison of Mosby Creek, departed this life Oct. 22, 1899, aged two months and two weeks. Another home has been made sorrowful by the dread angel of death. Another tender flower has been trasplanted into the paradise of the Lord.
This cold earth seemed so dark and drear,
Our darling could not stay;
In the bright land of light and love
He's gone to rest for aye.
"Dear little lamb," the Shepard called;
"Come home to me and rest,
Securely folded from all harm,
Upon my loving breast."
Sweet Clyde will not return to us;
If faithful we will be,
We'll join him in the better land -
Beyond the mystic sea.
Our tears will all be wiped away,
Our suffering will be o'er,
When in the land of pure delight,
we meet to part no more.
This cold earth seemed so dark and drear,
Our darling could not stay;
In the bright land of light and love
He's gone to rest for aye.
"Dear little lamb," the Shepard called;
"Come home to me and rest,
Securely folded from all harm,
Upon my loving breast."
Sweet Clyde will not return to us;
If faithful we will be,
We'll join him in the better land -
Beyond the mystic sea.
Our tears will all be wiped away,
Our suffering will be o'er,
When in the land of pure delight,
we meet to part no more.
Little Clyde, infant son of JF and Alice Ellison of Mosby Creek, departed this life Oct. 22, 1899, aged two months and two weeks. Another home has been made sorrowful by the dread angel of death. Another tender flower has been trasplanted into the paradise of the Lord.
This cold earth seemed so dark and drear,
Our darling could not stay;
In the bright land of light and love
He's gone to rest for aye.
"Dear little lamb," the Shepard called;
"Come home to me and rest,
Securely folded from all harm,
Upon my loving breast."
Sweet Clyde will not return to us;
If faithful we will be,
We'll join him in the better land -
Beyond the mystic sea.
Our tears will all be wiped away,
Our suffering will be o'er,
When in the land of pure delight,
we meet to part no more.
This cold earth seemed so dark and drear,
Our darling could not stay;
In the bright land of light and love
He's gone to rest for aye.
"Dear little lamb," the Shepard called;
"Come home to me and rest,
Securely folded from all harm,
Upon my loving breast."
Sweet Clyde will not return to us;
If faithful we will be,
We'll join him in the better land -
Beyond the mystic sea.
Our tears will all be wiped away,
Our suffering will be o'er,
When in the land of pure delight,
we meet to part no more.
Family Members
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