THE HALL OF MEMORY.
There is a Hall of Memory
Within a happy land;
The walls are high and marble clear
With wealth on every hand.
The railings on the stairway
Are made of purest gold;
The marble steps below them
Are hard and stern and cold.
I love the Hall of Memory—
I love to linger there;
Sweet visions coming evermore,—
Its pictures bright and fair.
Its walls are decked with pictures
Made by a Masters hand;
The marble figures far and near
Alive they seem to stand.
But there is one fair picture
I love to gaze upon;
It is the picture of a time
That is forever gone.
There is a Hall of Memory,
Its walls are stern and high;
The treasures it contains for me
No wealth can ever buy.
PEACE.
The cold moon-light is shining clear;
The tall trees shadows throw,
And all is spectral far and near
As far as eye can go.