Ira Alexander Lambert
June 27, 1870
DIED
In this city of the 27th inst. of Consumption, IRA ALEXANDER LAMBERT, son of James Lambert, aged 24 years.
A few minutes after sunset at the close of one the most beautiful days of the year, his spirit gently passed away.
He was a person of rare modesty, and but few knew what an intellect was concealed under his quiet, unassuming brow, but those friends to whom he revealed himself were filled with admiration at his cultivated mind and real genius. At school, for many years, he stood at the head of his class, and astonished his teachers by the talents he displayed. His special gift was his power of composition, and the rudest of his school productions are either finished essays or pleasing tales. He seemed to delight in writing and from his busy pen and fertile brain came in quick succession for several years stories and essays, some of which would rank well in comparison with similar productions appearing in the magazines of the day.
He was busily engaged in preparation for College when attacked with the fatal disease that ended his life, and during the last five years had been unable to study at all. Yet even under this great disappointment, and while suffering almost constantly, he never gave way to fruitless grief, but bore his affliction patiently and with a Christian spirit. When he began to feel a few weeks ago that the battle was almost over and the victory nearly won, he rejoiced in the hope of immortality, and spoke with pleasure of the comforting thought that his weary lustrum of pain would soon be ended.
Had he lived he would have obtained a name and reputation as an author; men would willingly have given him honor and reverence, his story would have been remembered and memory cherished by multitudes many score years after his departure.
But it was not so to be, for the most perfect and beautiful buds often wither before they bloom. He has escaped the toils and dangers of this life-has exchanged the dust and tumult of our world for the joy and perfect rest of the hereafter. His few short years amongst us were well spent, and now "After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well." F.H.B. (Source: Niles Democrat, Saturday, July 2, 1870, page 3, col. 4; microfilm Niles District Library)