Poems.
53
Of former friendship and of bye-gone
Days. Mementos serve to strengthen in our
Minds that sweet remembrance; we love to look
Upon a gift, even if 'tis trifling,
Presented by some valued friend; and 'tis
Doubly dear, when perhaps the giver sleeps
In death; 't is not alone of joy's bright hours
Mementos speak; they tell alike of days
Of sadness, and of hopes and fears; all, all
Are dear to mem'ry; we would not forget
E'en saddened moments, though melancholy
May tinge the hour of retrospection. Like
Some sepulchral lamp that casts its faint, but
Hallowed lustre o'er the shrines of former
Days, such are mementos; the cherished types
Of "auld lang syne."
Days. Mementos serve to strengthen in our
Minds that sweet remembrance; we love to look
Upon a gift, even if 'tis trifling,
Presented by some valued friend; and 'tis
Doubly dear, when perhaps the giver sleeps
In death; 't is not alone of joy's bright hours
Mementos speak; they tell alike of days
Of sadness, and of hopes and fears; all, all
Are dear to mem'ry; we would not forget
E'en saddened moments, though melancholy
May tinge the hour of retrospection. Like
Some sepulchral lamp that casts its faint, but
Hallowed lustre o'er the shrines of former
Days, such are mementos; the cherished types
Of "auld lang syne."
STANZAS.
Ye may crush the flower that the summer rears,
Or blast the rock that hath stood for years;
Ye may stem the ocean's raging breast,
Or scale the loftiest mountain's crest;
Ye may check the river's rapid flow,
Or dare the wild tornado's blow;
Or blast the rock that hath stood for years;
Ye may stem the ocean's raging breast,
Or scale the loftiest mountain's crest;
Ye may check the river's rapid flow,
Or dare the wild tornado's blow;
