Poems (Charlotte Allen)/Mementos
MEMENTOS.
I love mementos,Though they 're fragile things; for they speak of joysDeparted; of absent friends, and happyMoments fled forever: and though I knowThese little "mementos of love" are frail,I can but love them; true we cannot quiteForget old friends and former times, withinOur memory's tablet they 're engraved; yearsMay pass on, time in his reckless course mayChanges make, but from our mental store-houseNe'er can be removed the sweet remembrance Of former friendship and of bye-goneDays. Mementos serve to strengthen in ourMinds that sweet remembrance; we love to lookUpon a gift, even if 'tis trifling,Presented by some valued friend; and 'tisDoubly dear, when perhaps the giver sleepsIn death; 't is not alone of joy's bright hoursMementos speak; they tell alike of daysOf sadness, and of hopes and fears; all, allAre dear to mem'ry; we would not forgetE'en saddened moments, though melancholyMay tinge the hour of retrospection. LikeSome sepulchral lamp that casts its faint, butHallowed lustre o'er the shrines of formerDays, such are mementos; the cherished typesOf "auld lang syne."