Oh yes, at night,

Her pale face bent

In the candle-light,

Her slim hands touch

The answering keys,

And she sings of hope

And of memories:

Sings to the little

Boy that stands

Watching those slim,

Light, heedful hands.

He looks in her face;

Her dark eyes seem

Dark with a beautiful

Distant dream;

And still she plays,

Sings tenderly

To him of hope,

And of memory.

[Pg 17]

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