"Who can tell but what even this poor man may be found at last among the ransomed ones!"
This short extract from The Home Mission Monthly for May, published by the Woman's Executive Committee of Home Missions of the Presbyterian Church, is peculiarly appropriate to the above experience of her who now sleeps in Cypress Hills Cemetery,
"Under the shadows gray."
"At this spring-time season, when the seed is cast into the brown bosom of the earth, the lesson taught by the great Teacher, eighteen hundred years ago, in Palestine, 'as the sower went forth to sow,' is borne in upon the mind once more, and these lines are the reflex of the impulses which are astir in many hearts:
"I know my hand may never reap its sowing,
And yet some other may;
And I may never even see it growing—
So short my little day!
"Still must I sow, although I go forth weeping,
I cannot, dare not stay.