William Augustus Gilbert

The Courant American Newspaper
Cartersville, Georgia
February 2, 1893, Page 4
Transcribed and submitted by: 

Gussie Gone Away

There is a new made grave in the square allotted to my loved ones, and today the little mound is white with snow, beautiful symbol of the purity and loveliness of the little one laid to rest there. William Augustus, third son of Wm. A. and Helen C. Gilbert, was born August 1, 1890, and went away January 16, 1893.

On Monday morning as the old clock on the mantel tolled the hour of ten, and the last stroke had died away, the spirit of this precious child took its heavenward flight, leaving crushed hearts and a darkened home.

He was in many respects a remarkable child, strong and buoyant in body and mind, coupled with a warm and loving nature, made him a general favorite. In the group of four little brothers, Gussie was the one always noticed and admired. How soft the caress of his chubby hands, and warm the nestle of his curly head; but months of suffering had wasted the dimpled hands and made it necessary to clip the glossy curls. The rose had faded from his cheek and the luster of his soft brown eyes had given place to such a wistful tender look that his was almost the face of an angel, and Gussie was beautiful even in death. Long watching and nursing had only made the dear one dearer, and oh, how we treasured every little sweet word and way. But the sweet voice is forever hushed and no more will we hear him say, as he so often did, “me s’eet boy,” or ask again as he did only a few minutes before the breath left his emaciated little form, in accents clear and distinct, “put me in tibby.” The rare sweet flower has been transplanted to bloom in a more genial clime.


The fold of God now shelters,

The little one safe from harm;

And the tender shepherd circles

My lamb with his loving arms.


Some time when my soul is weary

With countless tears and sighs,

And the tired lids are folded

Down over the sightless eyes.


The pearly gates shall open,

Beyond the swelling tide,

And my beautiful ransomed darling,

Shall stand by my waiting side.


--Mama, Spring Brook, Jan. 18, 1893.




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