That last night upon me shone,
When, beneath the summer skies,
Beamed on me those brown, brown eyes?
These little souvenirs possess not their greatest value when first written; but as time, with scythe in hand, passes along, and we are left standing, we are not the same, but these lines remain. Some, to cheer the saddened by awakening slumbering memories of better things; and others serving as guide-boards on the road to eternity.
And thou, too, whosoe’er thou art,
That readest this brief psalm,
As one by one thy hopes depart,
Be resolute and calm.