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loneerkozi.et1ion; - ScholarsArchive at Oregon State University

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MORGAN L. SAVAGE.<br />

Died Februar 9th, 1280.<br />

Instead of the usual ministerial ser'vices <strong>at</strong> the funeral, <strong>at</strong> the<br />

request of his friends, Hon. J. W. Nesmith delivered the following<br />

touching tribute to the memory of the deceased<br />

FRIENDS:We are assembled around the open portals of the tomb to do the<br />

last sad offices for our departed neighbor and friend, Morgan Lewis Savage.<br />

At r o'clock on yesterday morning, he bre<strong>at</strong>hed his last, and his remains in the<br />

cold embraces of de<strong>at</strong>h now lay before us, consigned to their last resting place.<br />

Mr. Savage was born in iSid and came to <strong>Oregon</strong> in 1847. lIe was twice married,<br />

and leaves a widow arid six childreri to mourn his loss. I shall not invade<br />

th<strong>at</strong> sacred home to offer any poor consol<strong>at</strong>ion. Timeth<strong>at</strong> relieves our sorrows<br />

will mollify their grief, while the memory of the departed will always be cherished<br />

in their hearts.<br />

'When apring With dewy Sngsrs cold,<br />

Returns to deck this hallowed mould,<br />

She then ahall dreaa a sweeter sod<br />

Than fancy's feet have ever trod,<br />

a * * *<br />

And honor comes a pilgrim gray,<br />

To bless the turf th<strong>at</strong> Wraps his clay."<br />

Our friend has gone to "Th<strong>at</strong> undiscovered country, whose bourne from<br />

whence no traveler returns." He has passed the dark vale th<strong>at</strong> divides the<br />

here from the hereafter, and which no mortal ken has ever penetr<strong>at</strong>ed. Who<br />

has the right to speak of his future? I speak only of his past, th<strong>at</strong> <strong>at</strong> least is<br />

secure. It is said th<strong>at</strong> good men's deeds live after them. Judged by the rule<br />

of his good works, our friends' future is secure.<br />

As I look upon the thin lines of old Pioneers th<strong>at</strong> are here, I am reminded of<br />

the inevitable hour when we, too, shall follow.<br />

Our hearts, though strong and brave,<br />

Still, like muffled drums, are healing,<br />

Funeral marches to the grave."

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