DIED.
In Woodford county, on Monday, the 20th ult. ELIZABETH B. KINKEAD, consort of W. B. Kinkead, Esq. and eldest daughter of the Hon. Charles A. Wickliffe.
The annals of time are so crowded with memorials of the dead, that they seldom attract more than a passing glance, or perchance produce a momentary pang. When has the day gone by that we have not been called upon to mourn the departure of the young as well as the old? And upon whose cheeks have not the gushing tears stole and trickled as he followed to the grave all that remained of wit and beauty and more than earthly loveliness.
It is said there is something selfish in grief, and we are not disposed to deny it. The tears that are shed when women dies are purer, holier, far, than those which follow departed greatness to a home whose loneliness mocks the empty pomp and funeral pageantry with which it is decked, but not adorned. It is but a few months since we saw the subject of this notice in all the bloom of health, the delight of every company, the ornament of every circle. The old could but approve, the young admire. To sketch her character would be but to run through the catalogue of virtues which make women an Angel and her sphere a paradise. She was too pure for this earth and dying as she did in the cheerfulness of hope, her soul we trust, now rests in the bosom of her God. Long, long will her memory linger in the hearts of those who were linked to her by the ties of feeling or of blood. Her remains now sleep beneath the same turf where she sported and gamboled in the days of her chlldhood. The virgins and youths of her native village will sprinkle the choicest roses, the birds of the garden and the grove will warble their softest notes, and the willows of WICKLAND will weep in tears of the bitterest anguish over the retired but not forgotten grave of ELIZABETH WICKLIFFE.
—The Louisville Daily Journal (Louisville, Kentucky), Tuesday, March 28, 1837, p. 2.
In Woodford county, on Monday, the 20th ult. ELIZABETH B. KINKEAD, consort of W. B. Kinkead, Esq. and eldest daughter of the Hon. Charles A. Wickliffe.
The annals of time are so crowded with memorials of the dead, that they seldom attract more than a passing glance, or perchance produce a momentary pang. When has the day gone by that we have not been called upon to mourn the departure of the young as well as the old? And upon whose cheeks have not the gushing tears stole and trickled as he followed to the grave all that remained of wit and beauty and more than earthly loveliness.
It is said there is something selfish in grief, and we are not disposed to deny it. The tears that are shed when women dies are purer, holier, far, than those which follow departed greatness to a home whose loneliness mocks the empty pomp and funeral pageantry with which it is decked, but not adorned. It is but a few months since we saw the subject of this notice in all the bloom of health, the delight of every company, the ornament of every circle. The old could but approve, the young admire. To sketch her character would be but to run through the catalogue of virtues which make women an Angel and her sphere a paradise. She was too pure for this earth and dying as she did in the cheerfulness of hope, her soul we trust, now rests in the bosom of her God. Long, long will her memory linger in the hearts of those who were linked to her by the ties of feeling or of blood. Her remains now sleep beneath the same turf where she sported and gamboled in the days of her chlldhood. The virgins and youths of her native village will sprinkle the choicest roses, the birds of the garden and the grove will warble their softest notes, and the willows of WICKLAND will weep in tears of the bitterest anguish over the retired but not forgotten grave of ELIZABETH WICKLIFFE.
—The Louisville Daily Journal (Louisville, Kentucky), Tuesday, March 28, 1837, p. 2.
DIED.
In Woodford county, on Monday, the 20th ult. ELIZABETH B. KINKEAD, consort of W. B. Kinkead, Esq. and eldest daughter of the Hon. Charles A. Wickliffe.
The annals of time are so crowded with memorials of the dead, that they seldom attract more than a passing glance, or perchance produce a momentary pang. When has the day gone by that we have not been called upon to mourn the departure of the young as well as the old? And upon whose cheeks have not the gushing tears stole and trickled as he followed to the grave all that remained of wit and beauty and more than earthly loveliness.
It is said there is something selfish in grief, and we are not disposed to deny it. The tears that are shed when women dies are purer, holier, far, than those which follow departed greatness to a home whose loneliness mocks the empty pomp and funeral pageantry with which it is decked, but not adorned. It is but a few months since we saw the subject of this notice in all the bloom of health, the delight of every company, the ornament of every circle. The old could but approve, the young admire. To sketch her character would be but to run through the catalogue of virtues which make women an Angel and her sphere a paradise. She was too pure for this earth and dying as she did in the cheerfulness of hope, her soul we trust, now rests in the bosom of her God. Long, long will her memory linger in the hearts of those who were linked to her by the ties of feeling or of blood. Her remains now sleep beneath the same turf where she sported and gamboled in the days of her chlldhood. The virgins and youths of her native village will sprinkle the choicest roses, the birds of the garden and the grove will warble their softest notes, and the willows of WICKLAND will weep in tears of the bitterest anguish over the retired but not forgotten grave of ELIZABETH WICKLIFFE.
—The Louisville Daily Journal (Louisville, Kentucky), Tuesday, March 28, 1837, p. 2.
In Woodford county, on Monday, the 20th ult. ELIZABETH B. KINKEAD, consort of W. B. Kinkead, Esq. and eldest daughter of the Hon. Charles A. Wickliffe.
The annals of time are so crowded with memorials of the dead, that they seldom attract more than a passing glance, or perchance produce a momentary pang. When has the day gone by that we have not been called upon to mourn the departure of the young as well as the old? And upon whose cheeks have not the gushing tears stole and trickled as he followed to the grave all that remained of wit and beauty and more than earthly loveliness.
It is said there is something selfish in grief, and we are not disposed to deny it. The tears that are shed when women dies are purer, holier, far, than those which follow departed greatness to a home whose loneliness mocks the empty pomp and funeral pageantry with which it is decked, but not adorned. It is but a few months since we saw the subject of this notice in all the bloom of health, the delight of every company, the ornament of every circle. The old could but approve, the young admire. To sketch her character would be but to run through the catalogue of virtues which make women an Angel and her sphere a paradise. She was too pure for this earth and dying as she did in the cheerfulness of hope, her soul we trust, now rests in the bosom of her God. Long, long will her memory linger in the hearts of those who were linked to her by the ties of feeling or of blood. Her remains now sleep beneath the same turf where she sported and gamboled in the days of her chlldhood. The virgins and youths of her native village will sprinkle the choicest roses, the birds of the garden and the grove will warble their softest notes, and the willows of WICKLAND will weep in tears of the bitterest anguish over the retired but not forgotten grave of ELIZABETH WICKLIFFE.
—The Louisville Daily Journal (Louisville, Kentucky), Tuesday, March 28, 1837, p. 2.
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