BY LYDIA L. A. VERY.
———
“ ’Tis in the morning that the church-yard of Memory gives up its dead.”
Let them rise from the heart’s tomb;
Spirits, not of sadness or gloom—
White-robed thoughts of Childhood’s truth,
Cherished hopes that filled our youth.
Let them rise a shining band
Coming from the Spirit-Land.
Let them rise! each well-known face,