William Baxter Lines to the Memory of W. W. Whitaker (1845)

FROM

THE

MILLENNIAL HARBINGER.

THIRD SERIES.

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VOL. II. BETHANY, VA. OCTOBER, 1845. NO. X.
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W. W. WHITAKER.

Brother Campbell,

      BUT a short time has elapsed since the graduating class stood around you to listen to your parting words, and solemn words they were; and yet few of us at the moment had the faintest conception that they would be so soon and so mournfully fulfilled.

      Near the close of your address you remarked to us, who so full of life and hope stood before you, 'You will never all meet here again.' It was true--we looked then into each other's faces for the last time. One of that band, the youngest and the most gifted, has already departed--gone in youth from his friends, and the bright prospects which a hope illumined future spread out before him, to peace and joy in the Paradise of God.

      I enclose with this, a copy of verses as a slight tribute to the memory of the departed, in the hope that they may serve as a memorial to all his fellow-students, of one whose memory I know they will all gladly cherish.


Lines to the Memory of  W. W. WHITAKER.

    Dear lost one! how shall friendship pay
            Its fitting tribute onto thee;
    How grave upon thy early tomb
            Words worthy of thy memory?
For, oh! cold words can ne'er reveal
The desolation that we feel.

    Remembrance hurries on the past;
            And brings back, to the stricken heart,
    Those bright scenes in our happiest years,
            In which 'twas thine to bear a part;
Scenes round which memory lingers yet,
While link'd with thee we cant forget.

    In learning's halls we saw thee stand
            Pre-eminent--above the rest--
    Amid the noble and the good--
            Thyself the noblest and the best;
And none within our hearts shall be
More deeply shrin'd, through life than thee.

    Death's signet ne'er was plac'd upon
            A loftier, nobler brow, than thine;
    And ne'er did human heart contain,
            For friendship's truth, a purer shrine;
And though high earthly gifts were giv'n,
We know thy trust was all in heav'n.

    Scare had the wreath of learning been
            With honor plac'd upon thy brow,
    E'er we were call'd to shed our tears
            Of sadness o'er thy lowly bed;
And, oh! we trust that even now
A nobler crown enwreaths thy brow.

    Then why our tears since thou art blest,
            From earth, and toil, and sorrow, free?
    Why not exult that thou hast gain'd
            The wreath of Immortality?
Then be it ours to follow on,
Till we arrive where thou hast gone.

WILLIAM BAXTER.      

[The Millennial Harbinger (October 1845): 479.]

ABOUT THE ELECTRONIC EDITION

      William Baxter's "Lines to the Memory of W. W. Whitaker" was first published in The Millennial Harbinger, Third Series, Vol. 2, No. 10, October 1845. The electronic version of the letter and poem has been produced from the College Press reprint (1976) of The Millennial Harbinger, ed. Alexander Campbell (Bethany, VA: A. Campbell, 1845), p. 479.

      Inconsistencies in spelling, capitalization, punctuation, and typography have been retained; however, corrections have been offered for misspellings and other accidental corruptions. Emendations are as follows:

            Printed Text [ Electronic Text
 -----------------------------------------------------------------------
 p. 479:    Pre eminent [ Pre-eminent

      Addenda and corrigenda are earnestly solicited.

Ernie Stefanik
Derry, PA

Created 18 June 1998.
Updated 28 June 2003.

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