Weir Family Bible

Bible of Margaret Malloy Weir

Inside front cover

May the Nineteenth
Eighteen hundred and
thirty five -- James Malloy
Handwritten, cursive. I'm not too sure about the first line.

Bible
Bought in Montpeiler
Vermont 1835 My ?
Handwritten, cursive. Possibly a different hand.

Opposite Title page

View the original.

A son of John Weir in Montrose, 5
years old, was killed during the thun-
der storm on Wednesday. He was
in the house through which the electric
fluid passed. The funeral was held
Thursday. The shock jarred the plas-
ter off the wall, and a bedstead was
broken in several places. Mr. Weir
was on the point of lying down on
that bed just previous to the stroke,
but for some reason changed his mind
and went to another one.
Printed words (newsprint, presumably) pasted on the page.

JUST BEFORE THE BATTLE, MOTHER.
Just before the battle, mother,
I am thinking most of you,
While upon the field we're watching
With the enemy in view.
Comrades brave around are lying
Filled with thoughts of home and God;
For well they know that on the morrow
Some will sleep beneath the sod.

Oh, I long to see you, mother,
And the loving ones at home;
But I'll never leave our banner
Till in honor I can come.
Tell the traitors all around you
That their cruel words we know
In every battle kill our soldiers
By the help they give the foe.

Hark! I hear the bugles sounding,
'Tis the signal for the fight;
Now, may God protect us, mother,
As it ever does the right.
Hear the battle cry of freedom,
As it swells upon the air!
Oh, yes, we'll rally around the standard,
Or we'll perish nobly there.

CHORUS.

Farewell, mother, you may never
Press me to your heart again;
But, oh, you'll not forget me, mother,
If I'm numbered with the slain.

Printed words pasted on the page upside down.

WE LOVE THE ABSENT BEST.
Oh, the absent are the dearest
To a mother's loving heart;
And the depth of our affection
Is not known until we part.
We may view our sleeping darlings,
With a watchful pride and care;
And may breathe an earnest blessing
O'er each dusky head and fair;

But if there remains a pillow
Too uncrumpled, and too white!
And the chair a-near the bedside
Hold no garments for the night-
If we miss the shoes and stockings,
A torn jacket, or a dress-
If we miss a "Good-night, mother!"
And a dear one's warm caress-

Then our hearts yearn with affection
For the rover from our nest,
And we feel of all our darlings
That we love the absent best.
Ah, the absent are the dearest-
Mother hearts will answer yes!
The dear lips by far the sweetest
Are the lips we cannot kiss!

Printed words pasted on the page.

Title page

THE
HOLY BIBLE,

TRANSLATED FROM THE

LATIN VULGATE:

DILIGENTLY COMPARED WITH THE HEBREW, GREEK, AND OTHER
EDITIONS, IN DIVERS LANGUAGES;

-

NEW YORK:
PUBLISHED BY JOHN DOYLE, NO.12, LIBERTY-STREET.

STEREOTYPED BY CONNER & COOKE.
1833.

-

RECORDS | RECORDS BY NAME | RECORDS BY TYPE | RECORDS BY NUMBER

last modified: 00.07.30

May the Nineteenth Eighteen hundred and thirty five -- James Malloy	Handwritten, cursive. I'm not too sure about the first line.
Bible Bought in Montpeiler Vermont 1835 My ?	Handwritten, cursive. Possibly a different hand.

A son of John Weir in Montrose, 5 years old, was killed during the thun- der storm on Wednesday. He was in the house through which the electric fluid passed. The funeral was held Thursday. The shock jarred the plas- ter off the wall, and a bedstead was broken in several places. Mr. Weir was on the point of lying down on that bed just previous to the stroke, but for some reason changed his mind and went to another one.	Printed words (newsprint, presumably) pasted on the page.
JUST BEFORE THE BATTLE, MOTHER. Just before the battle, mother, I am thinking most of you, While upon the field we're watching With the enemy in view. Comrades brave around are lying Filled with thoughts of home and God; For well they know that on the morrow Some will sleep beneath the sod. Oh, I long to see you, mother, And the loving ones at home; But I'll never leave our banner Till in honor I can come. Tell the traitors all around you That their cruel words we know In every battle kill our soldiers By the help they give the foe. Hark! I hear the bugles sounding, 'Tis the signal for the fight; Now, may God protect us, mother, As it ever does the right. Hear the battle cry of freedom, As it swells upon the air! Oh, yes, we'll rally around the standard, Or we'll perish nobly there. CHORUS. Farewell, mother, you may never Press me to your heart again; But, oh, you'll not forget me, mother, If I'm numbered with the slain.	Printed words pasted on the page upside down.
WE LOVE THE ABSENT BEST. Oh, the absent are the dearest To a mother's loving heart; And the depth of our affection Is not known until we part. We may view our sleeping darlings, With a watchful pride and care; And may breathe an earnest blessing O'er each dusky head and fair; But if there remains a pillow Too uncrumpled, and too white! And the chair a-near the bedside Hold no garments for the night- If we miss the shoes and stockings, A torn jacket, or a dress- If we miss a "Good-night, mother!" And a dear one's warm caress- Then our hearts yearn with affection For the rover from our nest, And we feel of all our darlings That we love the absent best. Ah, the absent are the dearest- Mother hearts will answer yes! The dear lips by far the sweetest Are the lips we cannot kiss!	Printed words pasted on the page.

THE HOLY BIBLE, TRANSLATED FROM THE LATIN VULGATE: DILIGENTLY COMPARED WITH THE HEBREW, GREEK, AND OTHER EDITIONS, IN DIVERS LANGUAGES;	-
NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY JOHN DOYLE, NO.12, LIBERTY-STREET. STEREOTYPED BY CONNER & COOKE. 1833.	-