Died - At Village Springs, Ala., November 20th, 1895, of membranous croup, Opie, the two-year-old daughter of Dr. L.L. Wikle and wife.
Remlap Dots.
The little daughter of Dr. L.L. Wikle and wife, of Village Springs, was laid to rest in Hanover Cemetery one day last week.
[The Blount County News and Dispatch, Thursday, December 5, 1895]
A Tribute to Little Opie Wikle
Two years ago a white Angel flew through Dr. Wykle's home and left them a precious baby girl - The loving association of this little soul fresh from the hands of God - for two stainless years has been to them like living in Heaven - But Sunday, there came that scourge of children Membranous croup and that bright scene vanished. Our loving Savior stooped over that cradle - took the little one in His arms and walked away with it, into the bower of Eternal Summer.
Though so young - little Opie was surprisingly bright and intelligent, and it seems hard that the innocent bud should be plucked ere its sweet leaves opened to the warm sun of life - but it was fit that it should be so and the blow falls keen and deep - deepest on the mother whose watchful care she was beginning to respond to by lisping words, sweet smiles and bright beaming eyes when she drew her to her arms and gave the holiest of earths caresses - a mother's kiss - But those loving parents have consolation in knowing that she wil be the dearest of the hosts to welcome them home for she has not left them but just crosses on before -
And to that little waxen face, A soothing charm was given;
Or Earth there lingers not a trace, She seems a thing of Heaven.
We scarce could make our hearts believe, That treasure 'ere was ours;
We wept, Oh! Yes, we wildly grieved, For that baby girl of ours.
Perhaps we love this little Angel best, of all our little throng,
But, Oh! If thus we wronged the rest, We're punished for the wrong
If through the day we can forget, In nights long silent hours,
Our bosoms aching miss as yet, That baby girl of ours.
No more cradle, hide the chair, Put by the tiny shoes;
Lay all her little garments by, and all her playthings too.
For Oh! Too many tokens haunt, This darkened home's long hours.
The only one - does memory want, That baby girls of ours.
Oh God forgive us if we bent - Beneath the sudden blow;
And could not deem that kingly, Which tore our heart strings so.
For Father, we will thank thee now, For these few blissful hours,
And give thee back with bleeding hearts, That baby girl of ours. - A Friend.
[The Blount County News and Dispatch, Thursday, December 12, 1895]
Remlap Dots.
The little daughter of Dr. L.L. Wikle and wife, of Village Springs, was laid to rest in Hanover Cemetery one day last week.
[The Blount County News and Dispatch, Thursday, December 5, 1895]
A Tribute to Little Opie Wikle
Two years ago a white Angel flew through Dr. Wykle's home and left them a precious baby girl - The loving association of this little soul fresh from the hands of God - for two stainless years has been to them like living in Heaven - But Sunday, there came that scourge of children Membranous croup and that bright scene vanished. Our loving Savior stooped over that cradle - took the little one in His arms and walked away with it, into the bower of Eternal Summer.
Though so young - little Opie was surprisingly bright and intelligent, and it seems hard that the innocent bud should be plucked ere its sweet leaves opened to the warm sun of life - but it was fit that it should be so and the blow falls keen and deep - deepest on the mother whose watchful care she was beginning to respond to by lisping words, sweet smiles and bright beaming eyes when she drew her to her arms and gave the holiest of earths caresses - a mother's kiss - But those loving parents have consolation in knowing that she wil be the dearest of the hosts to welcome them home for she has not left them but just crosses on before -
And to that little waxen face, A soothing charm was given;
Or Earth there lingers not a trace, She seems a thing of Heaven.
We scarce could make our hearts believe, That treasure 'ere was ours;
We wept, Oh! Yes, we wildly grieved, For that baby girl of ours.
Perhaps we love this little Angel best, of all our little throng,
But, Oh! If thus we wronged the rest, We're punished for the wrong
If through the day we can forget, In nights long silent hours,
Our bosoms aching miss as yet, That baby girl of ours.
No more cradle, hide the chair, Put by the tiny shoes;
Lay all her little garments by, and all her playthings too.
For Oh! Too many tokens haunt, This darkened home's long hours.
The only one - does memory want, That baby girls of ours.
Oh God forgive us if we bent - Beneath the sudden blow;
And could not deem that kingly, Which tore our heart strings so.
For Father, we will thank thee now, For these few blissful hours,
And give thee back with bleeding hearts, That baby girl of ours. - A Friend.
[The Blount County News and Dispatch, Thursday, December 12, 1895]
Died - At Village Springs, Ala., November 20th, 1895, of membranous croup, Opie, the two-year-old daughter of Dr. L.L. Wikle and wife.
Remlap Dots.
The little daughter of Dr. L.L. Wikle and wife, of Village Springs, was laid to rest in Hanover Cemetery one day last week.
[The Blount County News and Dispatch, Thursday, December 5, 1895]
A Tribute to Little Opie Wikle
Two years ago a white Angel flew through Dr. Wykle's home and left them a precious baby girl - The loving association of this little soul fresh from the hands of God - for two stainless years has been to them like living in Heaven - But Sunday, there came that scourge of children Membranous croup and that bright scene vanished. Our loving Savior stooped over that cradle - took the little one in His arms and walked away with it, into the bower of Eternal Summer.
Though so young - little Opie was surprisingly bright and intelligent, and it seems hard that the innocent bud should be plucked ere its sweet leaves opened to the warm sun of life - but it was fit that it should be so and the blow falls keen and deep - deepest on the mother whose watchful care she was beginning to respond to by lisping words, sweet smiles and bright beaming eyes when she drew her to her arms and gave the holiest of earths caresses - a mother's kiss - But those loving parents have consolation in knowing that she wil be the dearest of the hosts to welcome them home for she has not left them but just crosses on before -
And to that little waxen face, A soothing charm was given;
Or Earth there lingers not a trace, She seems a thing of Heaven.
We scarce could make our hearts believe, That treasure 'ere was ours;
We wept, Oh! Yes, we wildly grieved, For that baby girl of ours.
Perhaps we love this little Angel best, of all our little throng,
But, Oh! If thus we wronged the rest, We're punished for the wrong
If through the day we can forget, In nights long silent hours,
Our bosoms aching miss as yet, That baby girl of ours.
No more cradle, hide the chair, Put by the tiny shoes;
Lay all her little garments by, and all her playthings too.
For Oh! Too many tokens haunt, This darkened home's long hours.
The only one - does memory want, That baby girls of ours.
Oh God forgive us if we bent - Beneath the sudden blow;
And could not deem that kingly, Which tore our heart strings so.
For Father, we will thank thee now, For these few blissful hours,
And give thee back with bleeding hearts, That baby girl of ours. - A Friend.
[The Blount County News and Dispatch, Thursday, December 12, 1895]
Remlap Dots.
The little daughter of Dr. L.L. Wikle and wife, of Village Springs, was laid to rest in Hanover Cemetery one day last week.
[The Blount County News and Dispatch, Thursday, December 5, 1895]
A Tribute to Little Opie Wikle
Two years ago a white Angel flew through Dr. Wykle's home and left them a precious baby girl - The loving association of this little soul fresh from the hands of God - for two stainless years has been to them like living in Heaven - But Sunday, there came that scourge of children Membranous croup and that bright scene vanished. Our loving Savior stooped over that cradle - took the little one in His arms and walked away with it, into the bower of Eternal Summer.
Though so young - little Opie was surprisingly bright and intelligent, and it seems hard that the innocent bud should be plucked ere its sweet leaves opened to the warm sun of life - but it was fit that it should be so and the blow falls keen and deep - deepest on the mother whose watchful care she was beginning to respond to by lisping words, sweet smiles and bright beaming eyes when she drew her to her arms and gave the holiest of earths caresses - a mother's kiss - But those loving parents have consolation in knowing that she wil be the dearest of the hosts to welcome them home for she has not left them but just crosses on before -
And to that little waxen face, A soothing charm was given;
Or Earth there lingers not a trace, She seems a thing of Heaven.
We scarce could make our hearts believe, That treasure 'ere was ours;
We wept, Oh! Yes, we wildly grieved, For that baby girl of ours.
Perhaps we love this little Angel best, of all our little throng,
But, Oh! If thus we wronged the rest, We're punished for the wrong
If through the day we can forget, In nights long silent hours,
Our bosoms aching miss as yet, That baby girl of ours.
No more cradle, hide the chair, Put by the tiny shoes;
Lay all her little garments by, and all her playthings too.
For Oh! Too many tokens haunt, This darkened home's long hours.
The only one - does memory want, That baby girls of ours.
Oh God forgive us if we bent - Beneath the sudden blow;
And could not deem that kingly, Which tore our heart strings so.
For Father, we will thank thee now, For these few blissful hours,
And give thee back with bleeding hearts, That baby girl of ours. - A Friend.
[The Blount County News and Dispatch, Thursday, December 12, 1895]
Family Members
Advertisement
Advertisement
