REVEREND GEORGE LUNN
STANTON MONITOR - Page 4; Vol. 1. No. 2—By Harm. (Harmon) Smith, Ed. & Publisher
Monthly—June, 1881—Terms: 25 Cts. A Year
OBITUARY.—Rev. George Lunn died at
his home in the township of Fairplains, April 29, and his funeral took place at
Fairplains Methodist chrurch last Sunday, (May 1st) the services
conducted by Rev. A. C. Beach, of Greenville. Father Lunn was in his 83d
year, and leaves a family to mourn his loss, of four sons and two daughters, all
residing in this county except Robert, Mrs. George Carter being now the oldest,
in her sixtieth year, and Wm. P. Lunn, the youngest, now in his 39th year, living on the homestead where his father died. The deceased was a
native of England, emigrating to Detroit in 1830, 51 years ago, when it was only
a promising village of a few hundred inhabitants. The streets were almost
impassible and the little log shanties of the French and Indians presented a
sorrowful spectacle. He remained in Wayne County a short time; thence he removed
to Macomb County and then to Oakland County. He removed Fairplains,
Montcalm County, in June, 1847, 34 years ago, three years previous to the
organiz-ation of the town. Soon after being appointed a local preacher of the M.
E. Church, he organized and conducted the services of the first religious
society of township and he has been the great pillar of the church until removed
by death. Father Lunn has been a faithful church member for over sixty years,
and an exhorter and preachers during all that time, laboring for the salvation
of mankind. And, with the assistance of his sainted companion, who consecrated
herself to God’s noble work, they together have done great good in this new
county; and both were loved most by those who knew them best. Mother Lunn
departed this life July 20th, 1867.
We shall miss thee, Father Lunn,
In our homes and everywhere,
But we know that thou art happy
Where the joyous angels are.
For a brighter crown is given,
And a happier home is thine,
Than kind friends could furnish for thee
On the restless waves of time.
Rest thee, loved one, may the angels
Guard and guide thee on heaven’s shore;
May we meet thee when earth’s shadows
Dim our visions never more.
Correspondent of the Independent
STANTON MONITOR
Page 1, Vol. 1. No. 2—By Harm. (Harmon)
Smith, Ed. & Publisher.
Monthly—June, 1881—Terms: 25 Cts. A Year
FAIRPLAINS, March 14, 1881.—At the residence
of Wm. P. Lunn, was held George Lunn’s 82nd Birthday Party. There
was a very pleasant gathering of relatives and friends, of seventy-three
persons. The Reverend gentleman was presented with a Nice Suit of Black Clothes
by his children, and a very large easy Rocking Chair by his friends; also a nice
Cane and a great many other presents we would be glad to mention, but space is
too short. After reading the Poem and Presents all received, His Reverence rose,
and the thanks he gave and the advice to meet him "up yonder," caused
some sad thoughts and much rejoicing. In all, it was a splendid time. Com.
A Poem Prepared by B. B. Crawford and Read at
the Eighty-Second Birthday Anniversary of the
REVEREND GEORGE LUNN
Dear Friend! We greet you happy fare,
Though your locks are silvered o’er with care;
And aye, for you are growing old,
And life its story has nigh told.
Think not our hearts, with sorrow clad,
For, Oh! t’is bliss—t’is joy of’t had
To see you. We have lived together,
For thirty years enjoying pleasure;
Among us now so hale and well,
Our hearts with gratitude doth swell.
The work you have done, oh; all can tell,
No need upon such topics dwell.
Those who love Christ can sound you praise,
Can anthems sing, when you are in your grave.
When o’er your heart the lillies nod,
Your spirit stands before our God.
For Christian life, you’ve lived so true,
That death to you will not be new.
But death! why name that the Specter here?
We pray that many a circling year
Will pass before we lay to rest,
Your body in the grave yard crest.
’Twill be a very gloomy day,
When angels bear your soul away.
To us, when meeting in your church;
To see you not, will sadden much:
’Twill sadden all to hear a prayer,
Which Father Lunn doth not inspire:
To see your seat filled by some other,
We fear not, but hope as good a Brother.
We’ve seen you young—a handsome man,
Life’s joy and sorrows just began;
Unwrinkled was your brow with toil;
Life’s thread had not unwound its coil.
Then all was beautiful to view,
But now such fancies are but few,
Before the hard and mortal strife,
The BEST remains—the FUTURE LIFE!
This last you found worth all the rest,
But oh! It was an awful test.
And now behold the closing scene,
The sketch which follows is so keen:
An aged man, who hopes to fly,
Beyond the vale—beyond the sky:
To quit this earth where sin holds sway,
To pass from darkness unto day;
To meet that Mother, whose delight,
Was but to think of holy light;
To hear the sweet, angelic song,
Sung by a shining, countless throng!
O! would that we might be as pure,
That we might all be just as sure,
To ascend to God when laid to sleep!
And kindred friends around us weep!
Farewell, BROTHER LUNN—so dear,
God grant you life for many a year;
And may each friend now greeting you,
Live to the age of eighty-two.
Submitted by Vern J. Hansen
