MEMORY
There are dresses that she wore,
The veil, the fur, the coat and hat,—
I know you've seen them all before,—
The chair where she so often sat.
The veil, the fur, the coat and hat,—
I know you've seen them all before,—
The chair where she so often sat.
There are the pictures that she chose,
The glass and painted chinaware,
The table with its favorite rose—
But she? Ah! she, Sweet Faith, is where?
The glass and painted chinaware,
The table with its favorite rose—
But she? Ah! she, Sweet Faith, is where?
The sun beats in at her window
To search for one who once was there;
The moon creeps up to her pillow
To gaze upon a face so fair.
To search for one who once was there;
The moon creeps up to her pillow
To gaze upon a face so fair.
But all must sigh, as oft we pass,
For one sight of a soul now gone.
All things are sacred to our lass;
The shadow of a soul's brief song.
For one sight of a soul now gone.
All things are sacred to our lass;
The shadow of a soul's brief song.
[51]
