O death thy stroke is sure. At an early hour thy
victim's fallen, & blasted the fond hopses of a father
a mother & an ownly sister. Eunice be still & know
that GOD hath spoken, & thy Brother called, Asahel
lived for thee: for thee he plan'd, he toiled, & hoped, & airy
castles built for thy future joy, but now he's gone. His
grave remains to be wattered ownly by the Dews of hea-
ven unless upon the Wabash banks a friend should chan-
ce to roam & drop an accidental tear. O Asahel among
strangers thy lot was cast among thouem thou hast fallen
& found a grave. No friend to see thy grief or share thy joy
or drop a tear with thee. Willford & Phebe alone marked
thy silent bed & ownly could take a pebble in memory
of thy noble soul. A pebble did I say, ah thy books, thy Journals,
thy letters, & all the productions of thoy pen, are standing
monuments of thy worth & of more value to thy friends
than the gold of Opher or the rubies of Peru. In the morn
of thy days thou hast fallen yet the events of thy youth will
be active in the memory of thy friends while memory lives
Me thinks the spirit steals across my breast & says be still
& learn to be resigned & feel that with thy brother all is well
that what was not accomplished with him in time, will be
finished when upon COLOB'S walls he stands clothed with
Immortality. God is just, all is right. In the morn of his
days Asahel is called from the scenes of time that his
noble soul fromay see, feel, & view those glories whoich are
hid behind the vale the covering of eternity. Farewell
Asahel farewell. No more will thy voice the ears of thy friends
salute or thy pen their hearts unlock. while here in time, truth
unsuled before the[e] now are living realities, while Willford'^s testi-
mony to thee in its true light can now be wedeighed. Upon thee
nature hath bestowed her bounty but not in vain though
buried from human view, then sleep untill the trump
shall sound to call the[e] forth in eternal things to act.
Eunice dry thy startling tear & give thy brother up. The
Lord hath taken him to save his soul that earthly snares
should not his feet enwrap & his fall secure. It speaks in
language loud be ye also ready, for in such an hour as
ye think not the Son of man cometh. [Matthew 24:44] How solumn to
part with friends yet it seetweetens death to know our
friend is God & the rest of Saints our home. Then sleep
Asahel sleep let naught thy dust disturd untill rean
imated by the Arkangels trump & in immortals gate
to meet thy friends & walk in paths of eternal light &
truth & comprehend all knowledge & wisdoms space
& natuers laws that ever live in vast DOMAIN

O death thy stroke is sure. At an early hour thy victim's fallen, & blasted the fond hopes of a father a mother & an ownly sister. Eunice be still & know that GOD hath spoken, & thy Brother called. Asahel lived for thee: for thee he plan'd, he toiled, & hoped, & airy castles built for thy future joy, but now he's gone. His grave remains to be wattered ownly by the Dews of heaven unless upon the Wabash banks a friend should chance to roam & drop an accidental tear. O Asahel among strangers thy lot was cast among them thou hast fallen & found a grave. No friend to see thy grief or share thy joy or drop a tear with thee. Willford & Phebe alone marked thy silent bed & ownly could take a pebble in memory of thy noble soul. A pebble did I say, ah thy books, thy Journals, thy letters, & all the productions of thy pen, are standing monuments of thy worth & of more value to thy friends than the gold of Opher or the rubies of Peru. In the morn of thy days thou hast fallen yet the events of thy youth will be active in the memory of thy friends while memory lives Methinks the spirit steals across my breast & says be still & learn to be resigned & feel that with thy brother all is well that what was not accomplished with him in time, will be finished when COLOB'S walls he stands clothed with

Immortality. God is just, all is right. In the morn of his days Asahel is called from the scenes of time that his noble soul may see, feel, & view those glories which are hid behind the vale the covering of eternity. Farewell Asahel farewell. No more will thy voice the ears of thy friends salute or thy pen their hearts unlock, while here in time, truth unsuled before the now are living realities, while Willford's testimony to thee in its true light can now be weighed. Upon thee nature hath bestowed her bounty but not in vain though buried from human view, then sleep untill the trump shall sound to call thee forth in eternal things to act. Eunice dry thy startling tear & give thy brother up. The Lord hath taken him to save his soul that earthly snares should not his feet enwrap & his fall secure. It speaks in language loud be ye also ready, for in such an hour as ye think not the son of man cometh. How solumn to part with friends yet it sweetens death to know our friend is God & the rest of saints our home. Then sleep Asahel sleep let naught thy dust disturd untill rean imated by the Arkangels trump & in immortals gate to meet thy friends & walk in paths of eternal light & truth & comprehend all knowledge & wisdoms space & natuers laws that ever live in vast DOMAIN