Mrs. Mary Furman Weston Byrd
BYRD. — " As one who wraps the drapery of his couch about him and lies down to pleasant dreams, " thus sweetly passed from earth to glory, on the morning of the 19th of February, 1884, M RS . M ARY F URMAN W ESTON B YRD , in the 92d year of her age, leaving two children, twelve grand-children, and twenty great-grand-children, to mourn her irreparable loss.
" Rising up they call her blessed. " Another ancient landmark has been gathered to her Fathers. With her death a link is severed which bound two centuries together. The venerable subject of this notice was born in 1792, of parents who were both exiles from their native land; one being born in Morocco, Barbary States, the other in Marseilles, France. During her eventful life she passed through three wars; that of 1812 in her girlhood, after the Mexican and the late Civil Wars. Possessed of a loving heart and cheerful disposition, charity was the guiding star of her life. Her widow's mite was never found wanting. In her the distressed and the needy met always a ready response. She died as she lived, beloved and venerated by legions to whom her very name was a household word. So then,
Though no blossoms cluster
Above thy aged brow,
Though winter winds are breathing
A requiem soft and low,
We look beyond earth's shadows,
Beyond death's misty plain,
And though we sadly miss thee,
Will not wish thee back again.
Could we but see thee, dear one,
In the Palace of thy Lord,
With thy robe of snowy whiteness,
And with more than youth renewed.
No more on bended willows
Would our broken harps remain,
Take us beauty for our ashes,
Take us gladness for our pain.
" Rising up they call her blessed. " Another ancient landmark has been gathered to her Fathers. With her death a link is severed which bound two centuries together. The venerable subject of this notice was born in 1792, of parents who were both exiles from their native land; one being born in Morocco, Barbary States, the other in Marseilles, France. During her eventful life she passed through three wars; that of 1812 in her girlhood, after the Mexican and the late Civil Wars. Possessed of a loving heart and cheerful disposition, charity was the guiding star of her life. Her widow's mite was never found wanting. In her the distressed and the needy met always a ready response. She died as she lived, beloved and venerated by legions to whom her very name was a household word. So then,
Though no blossoms cluster
Above thy aged brow,
Though winter winds are breathing
A requiem soft and low,
We look beyond earth's shadows,
Beyond death's misty plain,
And though we sadly miss thee,
Will not wish thee back again.
Could we but see thee, dear one,
In the Palace of thy Lord,
With thy robe of snowy whiteness,
And with more than youth renewed.
No more on bended willows
Would our broken harps remain,
Take us beauty for our ashes,
Take us gladness for our pain.
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