[Wilford Woodruff on the death of his brother] Has Asahel fled away from lif's fair scenes to the regions of the DEAD? YES he is gone by Deaths relentless hand. Had youth, or beauty, friends or virtue, power to Save He now might be mingling with his friends, and not sleeping in the silent GRAVE.
...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 [Kolob'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 bounty but not in vain though buried from human view. Then sleep untill the trump shall sound to call the 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 dlsturd untill reanimated by the Ark angels 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.
[Source: Wilford Woodruff's Journal: 1833-1898 Typescript, Volumes 1-9, Edited by Scott G. Kenney, Signature Books 1993, http://amzn.to/newmormonstudies]
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