So rapid was the wasting process of her disease, that within six weeks from the time she took the cold, she rode up in the cars, on her way home, with an intimate acquaintance of hers who did not know her. He told me he thought of her, but thought it could not be Annie, she was so altered in her looks, being so poor and pale. Her brother Samuel said he did not think he should have known her had he met her unexpectedly, and said with a most dejected look, “I don’t think she will live.”
She came home the 7th of November, kept about and worked some till about the 1st of December, when she had a very distressed day, and raised blood. Having confidence in water treatment, she went where she could receive such treatment, to see the effect it would have, and to get information. She continued this course till the following February. She felt better while under the exhilarating effect of the water, but became satisfied that she was no better.
The 14th of February, most providentially, Bro. Joseph Bates called on us, and stopped till the 18th. This was the occasion of a great blessing to her. At the commencement of the Sabbath, the 16th, the spirit and power of God descended upon her, and she praised God with a loud voice. I felt at the same time the sweet influence of Heaven, and the presence of holy angels. I believed God was hearing prayer, and granting his blessing, and joined them in praising and giving glory to his name. Bro. B. then said to Annie, “You needed this blessing, and now if the Lord sees that it is best for you to be laid away in the grave, he will go with you.”
She appeared some stronger and better a few days in the day time, but I could not see that she rested, or was much different nights. Her cough remained obstinate, and I do not think the disease was ever stayed. She was greatly strengthened in a spiritual point of view, and engaged more earnestly in exhorting people to believe the Word, and be ready for the coming of the Lord. She would feel impressed to go out and talk with different individuals upon the truth, and was strengthened and blessed in so doing. Victory was generally gained, so that the truth was verified, that whom the Lord makes free is free indeed. We had from that time as long as she lived, some of the most sweet, melting seasons of prayer that I ever enjoyed, often accompanied with shouts of praise to the Lord.
It was evident to all around that Annie was failing. Her symptoms became alarming. The 20th of March her brother Samuel was taken suddenly and very sick with influenza and fever, three miles and a half away at his boarding place, and unable to get home. Annie said I must go and attend upon him, even if she never saw me again.
The 30th she went to Mason Village to stay with sister Gorham, while I was with her brother. While there, word came that Annie was much worse. The 12th of April I went to Mason Village, and found her very much worse than I expected. For twelve days her death was almost hourly expected by those around. She said to me, “Mother, that poem I’ve been writing since January, 1855, [since published under the title of “Home Here and Home in Heaven,”] I suppose must all be lost. It is unconnected, and nothing can be done with it to advantage, without me.” I went to Wilton and got the papers containing what she had written, but she was not able to do anything with them. She then prayed that she might be enabled to finish the poem, and prepare the book she had in contemplation; that if she did not live, it might be that through it, she being dead would yet speak, and that good might be done.
Sabbath April 21, the meeting was at sister Gorham’s. We did not hold it in her room on account of her low state of health, but went in to close the exercises, when to our surprise she commenced praying with more than usual strength. The presence of God was manifested, and his power rested down upon her in a remarkable manner. She said she was raised up to go home, and to do the will of the Lord. She rested better that night than she had for a long while. The next day she rode to Wilton, seven miles, to the astonishment of all. Many from our village had been to see her, and taken their leave, never expecting to see her again; and when they saw the carriage drive up, they came in to inquire when she died. Great was their surprise to find her able to walk about the room. She was again in her own quiet home, and soon commenced on her work. She was not able to write much herself, and I kept paper and pencil to write what she dictated at her will.
The 28th of May she had arranged and composed the last verse of her poem “Home Here and Home in Heaven.” The 29th, her brother Uriah came home just in time to write it off for the press, and to assist her in arranging her other poetry for reprinting. She, however, made some alterations, and some little additions while he was copying it.
She dreamed in February that she was with a people, seemingly spectators, and before her was the most beautiful road, which glistened like gold. There was a company arranged by the side, and some one came to her with a peony, and said to her, “You must go over upon that road and hold up this peony.” She stood there dressed in white, holding up the peony, when she awoke with the most pleasing impression, that she had yet something more to do for the Lord. She fully believed after she came from Mason, that she should accomplish the work she had in view, and that this was what was represented by her dream. The peony was her favorite flower, and as soon as they were in blossom, Uriah sketched and engraved one for the book, as is seen on the title page.
She often said in view of her dream, that when the book was done there would be a change in her. She should either be raised up to live, or she should die. Her prayer was answered. The book was all done on her part, and as she had a desire to see the proof-sheet of her poem, and heard that help was needed at the office, she said to Uriah, “I feel bad to have you staying on my account, when it seems you might be accomplishing more good.” It was thought she might live till frosty nights, if no longer. Under these considerations, Uriah left for Rochester the 17th of July. He had not been gone with the manuscript; more than three hours, when she said, “I am ready now to die;” and she did not live quite ten days after.