Memoirs of William Miller - Sylvester Bliss

Precious stones and coins most rare; --
All, all, all will then be there!
Hold thee on a little space,
For thy Master, face to face,
Will sweetly say, “Come, dwell with me,
From the dust of death set free.”
Every pain that now afflicts thee,
Every ill that now besets thee,
All will vanish in the light
Of thy casket second sight.”
Mrs. C. A. Ludlow.
Towards the last of January, 1848, Mr. Miller
was attacked with a dimness of sight, which
deprived him of his usual privilege of reading and
writing, which, through life, had been to him a
source of great enjoyment. His health, otherwise,
continued as good as could be expected, in his
gradually declining age.
With the loss of his sight, he had to depend on
others to read to him, and to write the letters which
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