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382 [[newspaper clipping]] DEATH AND LIFE. BY DEAN STANLEY. O Death! how sweet the thought That this world's strife is ended; That all we feared and all we sought Are in one deep sleep blended. No more the anguish of to-day To wait the darker morrow; No more stern call to do or say, To brood o'er sin and sorrow. O Death! how dear the hope That through the thickest shade Beyond the steep and sunless slope Our treasured store is laid. The loved, the mourned, the honored dead That lonely path have trod, And that same path we too must tread, To be with them and God. O Life! thou too art sweet; Thou breath'st the fragrant breath Of those whom even the hope to meet Can cheer the gate of death. Life is the scene their presence lighted; Its every hour and place Is with dear thought of them united, Irradiate with their grace. There lie the duties small and great Which we from them inherit; There spring the [[strikethrough]] alms [[/strikethrough]] [[note]] aims [[/note]] that lead as straight To their celestial spirit. All glorious things, or seen, or heard, For love or justice done, The hopeful [[strikethrough]] dead, [[/strikethrough]] [[note]] deed [[/note]] the ennobling word, By this poor life are won. O Life and Death! like Day and Night, Your guardian task combine; Pillar of darkness and of light, Lead through earth's storm till bright Heaven's dawn shall shine! - Macmillan's Magazine. [[/newspaper clipping]] Saturday Sept. 16. 1882. Painted on the barn. Jamie helped me. A letter from Weir from Harris Falls and one from Eastman greatly disappointed that I am not going to the Maine Woods and hoping I will still go. Sunday 17. A beautiful September day. Andrews and I walked over to see the progress on the West Shore road. The men were at work with the steam drills in the heavy rock cut. We were all greatly surprised by Maurices arrival home from Montana this afternoon. Sam Cuykendall and his wife called to invite us all on a trip over the Stony Clove road the day to be fixed for Lucy's convenience. Wrote to Calvert sending him Eastmans letter and also to Eastman telling him I would write again after I heard from Calvert. Monday 18. A very warm day. Painted on the barn. This afternoon I fell and hurt my back and covered myself with the contents of the paint pot. Lots of people calling the house like a hotel. Mr. Louisberry arrived after dark with a horse which I had to take care of as Tom had gone out. It was anything but agreeable with my lame back. A letter from Mr. Day from New Orleans telling me he had severed his connection with the society and virtually giving me to understand that I need trouble him no more. We shall see. Tuesday 19. Went down town and ordered some things for the barn. It has been excessively hot. Have not been able to do much on account of my lame back. Lucy went to N.Y. Sara had a letter from Mary giving an account of Maurices entree into N.Y. The old, old story. I think he has been discharged. A letter from Calvert and later a telegram telling me to join Eastman but I am very undecided about it. Wednesday 20. My side is very lame so that I can do nothing. Maurice is going on in his old dreadful way and that misery confronts us all again. A letter from Calvert telling me to go with Eastman but I do not feel like going and think I will not. I wrote to Calvert. Lucy returned from New York and brought us the tidings of Julia Vaux's engagement to Mr. Donaldson whom I do not know but who seems to be very acceptable to her people. Thursday 21. We were all to have gone to Hunter today by invitation of Sam Cuykendall but it rained and we did not go. Maurice
