Grand Haven Daily Tribune  March 27, 1901

Lake Forrest Cemetery, Grand Haven, Mich.

Lines, in Tender Memory of

Lynn D. Turner.

The youngest son of Mr. and Mrs. George D.

Turner, of this city; and kindly inscribed

to all the many friends of the deceased.

―

BY DAVID FLETCHER HUNTON.

―

I saw that sad procession come

Away from your afflicted home;

And watched its slow-paced, measured tread,

Out to the city of the dead!

I saw the melancholy car,

Bearing your well-beloved afar:

And heard each stroke of tolling bell,

Sobbing and groaning its last farewell!

I saw the young man in that train,

Gently take up their comrade slain,

And with sad hearts, and spirits brave,

Consign him to that new made grave!

How sad to see that young man go,

As he went out from you below;

Aye! sad to lay him down in trust―

“Ashes to ashes!  Dust to dust!”

I saw your tears!  How fast they fell!

I almost heard your hearts rebel,

As you stood ‘round that upturned sod,

Against this providence of God!

He gave him when a cherub fair,

Into your tender, loving care;

And take him now, to lift your eyes,

To better things beyond our skies!

How suddenly the young man goes

From college to his last repose!

How like a bright and burning star,

Struck down to earth from heaven afar;

To shine with added rays of light

In brighter skies beyond our sight!

An orb of greater glory given,

To light your pathway up to heaven!

Within “Lake Forest’s” quiet shade,

His sacred resting place is made;

And often there your feet may stray

In blossom time, or summer’s day;

And there may come from far and near,

His college chums, and schoolmates dear,

To think of him whose face is hid

Beneath the coffin’s buried lid!

How sweet to think that he may come

An unseen presence in your home!

That he may fold his spirit wings,

And influence you to better things!

How sweet to think that while you weep,

And while in slumber’s arms you sleep,

An angel with protecting arm,

May watch and guard you from all harm!

How sweet to think that while you yearn

To have that darling boy return;

He may your thoughts and acts control,

And all the motives of your soul!

Oh, how consoling to believe,

That vanished hand for which you grieve,

May often, while this life endures,

Press gently all the palms of yours!

Grand Haven, Mich.

Lynn Turner story