Poems (E. L. F.)/Memory
For works with similar titles, see Memory.
MEMORY.
Voice of the past, whose mellowed toneBreathes a soft music, deep and lone,O'er the weary heart, where toil and careHath wellnigh hushed all echo there;
Waking the soul of days gone byWith the buried thoughts that in them lie,And the secret spring, when touched, will flowWith joys enacted years ago.
Yet Memory, too, will tell the heartA tale of life's embittered part,How each alternate sorrow castIts shadow o'er the joyous past;
And bring to mind each treasured scene,The hopes and wishes that had been; And from the depths of time will save,The tears and smiles that friendship gave.
Then wake not Memory's dreamy trance,Nor lose its time-reflecting glance;Think not the hour is spent in vain,That gives the past to thee again.