TO MRS. WHEATON.
These lines are most respectfully presented as a prisoner's tribute of sincere respect:
O, woman's love, past understanding! So near to God's, so wondrous deep: Deep as the depths of space; expanding Till it blooms beyond death's mystic sleep
Throughout the earth, the rich and lowly It reigns supreme within her breast. O, woman's love! through its beauty holy She will win eternal rest.
Born of woman, purest, dearest Lily of fair Bethlehem, Christ to her will be the nearest In his bright home—Jerusalem.
A fadeless flower in beauty blooming 'Midst heaven's host of immortelles. His peerless love her soul perfuming She'll reign a queen mid arch angels
J. W. L.
Cole City, Ga., Sunday night, Nov. 17, 1889.
TAKE THIS MESSAGE TO MY MOTHER.
(Written by a Prisoner in Jackson, Miss.)