A lovely Christian, spouse, and friend, Pleasant in life, and at her end.— A pale consumption dealt the blow That laid her here, with dust below. Sore was the cough that shook her frame; That cough her patience did proclaim— And as she drew her latest breath, She said, “The Lord is sweet in death.” O pious reader! standing by, Learn like this gentle one to die. The grass doth grow and fade away, And time runs out by night and day; The King of Terrors has command To strike us with his dart in hand. Go where we will by flood or field, He will pursue and make us yield. But though to him we must resign The vesture of our part divine, There is a jewel in our trust, That will not perish in the dust, A pearl of price, a precious gem, Ordained for Jesus’ diadem; Therefore, be holy while you can, And think upon the doom of man. Repent in time and sin no more, That when the strife of life is o’er, On wings of love your soul may rise, To dwell with angels in the skies, Where psalms are sung eternally, And martyrs ne’er again shall die; But with the saints still bask in bliss, And drink the cup of blessedness. This was greatly thought of at the time, and Mr. Lorimore, who had a nerve for poesy himself in his younger years, was of opinion that it was so much to the purpose, and suitable withal, that he made his scholars write it out for their examination copies, at the reading whereof before the heritors, when the examination of the school came round, the tear came into my eye, and every one present sympathized with me in my great affliction for the loss of the first Mrs. Balwhidder. Andrew Langshaw, as I have recorded, having come from the Glasgow College to the burial of his sister, my wife that was, stayed with me a month to keep me company; and staying with me, he was a great cordial, for the weather was wet and sleety, and the nights were stormy, so that I could go little out, and few of the elders came in, they being at that time old men in a feckless condition, not at all qualified to warsle with the blasts of winter. But when Andrew left me to go back to his classes, I was eerie and lonesome; and but for the getting of the monument ready, which was a blessed entertainment to me in those dreary nights, with consulting anent the shape of it with John Truel, and meditating on the verse for the epitaph, I might have gone altogether demented. However, it pleased Him, who is the surety of the sinner, to help me through the Slough of Despond, and to set my feet on firm land, establishing my way thereon.