Died.
Sept. 19th. 1893 Nina, youngest daughter of M. and Mrs D. Swaney of Liberty Township, Republic county (sic) Kansrs (sic) Nina was eight years 11 months and 23 days. she was beloved by all who knew her, she will be missed in her home and in the school.
Over the river the boatman pale,
Has carried another, The household pet;
Her brown curls waved in the gentle gale,
Darling Nine; I see her yet.
She crossed on her bosom, her dimpled hangs,
And fearlessly entered the phantom park;
We watched it glide from the silver ssnds (sic),
And all our sunshine grew strangely bark,
We know she is safe on the farther side.
Where all the ransomed, and Angels dwell.
Over the river: the mystic river,
My childhoods angel is awaiting me.
And I sit and think, when the sunsets gold
Is flushing river, and hill and shore,
I shall one day stand by the water cold,
And list for the sound of the boatmans oar;
And when perchance the well known hail
Again shall echo along the straud.
I shall pass from sight with the boatmen pale,
To the better shore of the spirit land.
I shall know the loved one who has gone before;
And joyful sweet will the meeting be,
When over the river: the beautiful river,
The angel of death shill carry me.
H.C. and M.M. George.
Died.
Sept. 19th. 1893 Nina, youngest daughter of M. and Mrs D. Swaney of Liberty Township, Republic county (sic) Kansrs (sic) Nina was eight years 11 months and 23 days. she was beloved by all who knew her, she will be missed in her home and in the school.
Over the river the boatman pale,
Has carried another, The household pet;
Her brown curls waved in the gentle gale,
Darling Nine; I see her yet.
She crossed on her bosom, her dimpled hangs,
And fearlessly entered the phantom park;
We watched it glide from the silver ssnds (sic),
And all our sunshine grew strangely bark,
We know she is safe on the farther side.
Where all the ransomed, and Angels dwell.
Over the river: the mystic river,
My childhoods angel is awaiting me.
And I sit and think, when the sunsets gold
Is flushing river, and hill and shore,
I shall one day stand by the water cold,
And list for the sound of the boatmans oar;
And when perchance the well known hail
Again shall echo along the straud.
I shall pass from sight with the boatmen pale,
To the better shore of the spirit land.
I shall know the loved one who has gone before;
And joyful sweet will the meeting be,
When over the river: the beautiful river,
The angel of death shill carry me.
H.C. and M.M. George.
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