Friend of my heart, adieu!
God keep you in his care
Believe this parting sigh
Receive this parting pray'r
And don't forget the few
Bright hours that we have seen,
Adieu! Adieu!
Remember vanished hours,
Let mem'ry softly dwell
On one who thinks of thee
With thoughts too deep to tell;
On one who steadfast grew,
Mid thickest clouds and tears,
adieu! adieu!
Let gentle dreams arise
When I am far from thee,
Of all the counsel sweet
That thou hast shared with me;
As when our mem'ries flew
To mingle sweetest thoughts, adieu!
adieu!
Think of the heart of love
That ever sprang to meet
Thy slightest wish and dreamed
No earthly joy so sweet
As when on wings it flew
To speak for me with thee, adieu!
adieu!
Think of the heart of faith
That watched with anxious pain,
For tidings of thy love
O'er the divided main;
Think of the loving heart
And true, that writes with tears
adieu! adieu!
Though dark with many faults
This self-same heart may be,
It has one spot unstained
It never erred to thee;
No idle words nor new
Thou knowest they are true, adieu!
adieu!
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Roswell
Derby Sr. was born August 16,1823 on a farm about 2 miles south of Cherry
Valley, New York. His father was of New England stock; his mother English
and Scotch. At the time of the massacre of Cherry Valley, there was a Scotch
settlement near: all of the inhabitants except a baby boy, hid in one of
the cellars were killed. He was found afterward and adopted by a Mr. Dutcher
and since his rightful name was not known, his posterity goes by the name
of Dutcher. He married an English woman by the name of Buck. Their daughter
married David Derby, father of Roswell Derby Sr. Both lie buried in Cherry
Valley, New York, about two miles south of the village. David Derby's father
lies buried at Old Granville, New York, where they came from Massachusetts.
The mother of Roswell Derby died when he was eleven years old and his father
when he was twelve. His relatives were poor so he was cast forth upon his
own resources, a boy in a big world. His genius was of the first; he saw
but to know. He managed to acquire a good education for his day and spent
some time as a teacher. He studied first medicine then the law, but became
disgusted both professions. He was too robust to stand confinement and
must follow where he could use more physical force. He delighted to hunt
and loved to follow the advance line of western civilization. He took up
black smithing, then shifted to farming. He was married to Mary Ann Whitcomb
June 27,1849 at East Townsend, Ohio and spent the rest of his days for
the good of home and posterity. His education fitted him to be an encyclopedia
for the community in which he lived. If in trouble he was their counsel;
if sick; their doctor. He will be remembered for the good he has done.
He was an athlete, a strong speaker and an original writer, with only a
few pieces written in his youth preserved. What care he for wealth and
fame while his wife and children could remain? And they all lived to follow
him to his grave Oct. 30,1915. His wife Mary Ann Whitcomb followed
him three months later and as they had lived so side by side they sleep
in the cemetery at Wakeman, Ohio. I see his coffin now covered with white
flowers. I chose the white flowers as typical of the purity of grandfather's
life he always showed. To love ones friends, to bathe in life's sunshine,
to preserve a right mental attitude, the receptive attitude and to do ones
work; these make the ideal life. This was the life he lived; for him we
have nothing to fear. He loved life and basked in the sunshine of his home.
He knew the value of a home by the loss he had once endured. He was always
a champion for right ; regardless of what opposed. He sacrificed much in
the interest of right but was always happy in the sacrifice.. His motto
was "Let this life be one grand plan for Eternity" What matters what you
suffer or what you sacrifice, if done for God and Humanity! Most of his
literary works for the most part were done before his marriage and were
lost. The only ones he saved were those that lay close to his heart.
"And
what, in tribute, can I say?
His
works and life will far out shine;
He
trod the just and Holy way
That
leads unto the life, Divine'
Submitted
by his great- great granddaughter
Karen
S. Ramsey Bookout
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