Of Remembrance

I dn rrmember every note And (-ach sweot letter that slip wrot From where, nfar tho palm biest isles Aro lovener for her splendid smiles. I do rpmembov even tho flowor hji: Bent me In a lonely hour. Aísri soraetimes, when ir.y lonely Bonl Heuroth in dark God's thunders roll, I wonder - hor sveet worshiper - If God's darle stonns break over her. And if they do I know my breast Would bear them all to givo her rest. But, no ; the f ragrant orange blossom Watt throughhor life thelr sweet perfume ; And the tall sliipa, with wind blown gails, Bring to lier songs of nifrhtingales. Yet, do they still, whero'cr thoy be, Sinii fco her one last song of mu!