On Whit-Sunday she was better, and able to converse a little with her brother and sister. On the following day at early dawn she made the remark, "'Spite of the breakers, Marie, I am so happy. God's promises are so true. Not a fear." At 8 A.M. it was thought she was departing. The Lord's Supper was administered at her request, and when it was over she whispered to her brother, "Frank dear, it is not the performance of the rite, no safety in that; but it is obedience to His command, and as a remembrance of His dying love." When the doctor told her she would soon be going home, she exclaimed. "Beautiful! too good to be true!… Oh! it is the Lord Jesus that is so dear to me, I can't tell how precious! how much He has been to me!" Afterwards she asked for "How sweet the name of Jesus sounds!"
To the vicar of Swansea, who visited her, she said, "Oh! I want all of you to speak bright, bright words about Jesus, oh, do, do! It is all perfect peace. I am only waiting for Jesus to take me in."
Her sufferings were very acute, and when told how patient she had been that even the doctors noticed it, she replied, "Oh! I am so glad you tell me this. I did want to glorify Him every step of the way, and especially in this suffering. I hope none of you will have five minutes of this pain."
On Tuesday, June 3, she was evidently worse. Among the words she uttered were these: "I am lost in amazement! There hath not failed one word of all His promise!" Mentioning the names of many dear ones, she said, "I want all to come to me in heaven; oh! don't, don't disappoint me; tell them, 'Trust Jesus.'" When one of her sisters repeated the words of the hymn, "Jesus, I will trust Thee," she sang the verse right through to her tune "Hermas." Violent sickness ensued, and when it was over she folded her hands on her heart, saying, "There, now it is all over! Blessed rest!"
Her sister thus describes the glorious sunset of her life on June 3, 1879, at the age of 42: "And now she looked up steadfastly as if she saw the Lord; and surely nothing less heavenly could have reflected such a glorious radiance upon her face. For ten minutes we watched that almost visible meeting with her King, and her countenance was so glad, as if she were already talking to Him. Then she tried to sing, but after one sweet high note—'HE—,' her voice failed, and as her brother commended her soul into her Redeemer's hand, she passed away. Our precious sister was gone, satisfied, glorified, within the palace of her King." And so she fell asleep, and her eyes saw the King in His beauty—that King of whom she sung so sweetly and wrote so loyally. On June 9 they laid her body to rest in the quiet churchyard of Astley Church in Worcestershire.
And thus within sight of the room which saw her birth, her body lies "until the day dawn."
VIII.
"UNDER THE SURFACE."
Upon the surface you saw a bright, accomplished lady. She had marked ability as a linguist. She acquired a great deal of German as a child by carefully attending while present at the German lessons given to her sisters. She learnt enough Greek and Hebrew to read her Hebrew Bible and to enjoy her Greek Testament, and often brings out in her letters the fact that she had been studying it. As we have seen, she was an accomplished musician, and she was untiring in her literary productions. Her books of poems comprise Life-Chords, consisting of "Under His shadow,"—"Her last poems"—"Loyal Responses," and "Her earlier poems;" Life Mosaic, comprising "The Ministry of Song," and "Under the Surface;" Swiss Letters and Alpine Poems, written during several tours in Switzerland.
Her chief prose works Kept for the Master's Use, The Royal Invitation,
My King, Royal Commandments, Royal Bounty, Starlight through Shadows,
Morning Stars, Morning Bells, Little Pillows, and Bruey, a little Worker
for Christ.