When memory takes me back again to scenes I used to know.

[Pg 53]

I can see it all when fancy weaves its magic with a dream,

And I hear the tones from voices like the murmur of a stream;

And oh, the heart seems young again and from its anguish free

When I gaze upon these pictures that are ever dear to me;

Then I see the darkies dancing, I can hear the fiddle ring

As they gathered in the cabin and they cut the pigeon-wing;

I can smell the 'possum roasting, I can see the cider flow,

When memory takes me back again to scenes I used to know.

[Pg 54]

[Pg 54]

BEREFT.

No more to feel the pressure warm

Of dimpled arms around your neck—

No more to clasp the little form

That Nature did with beauty deck.

No more to hear the music sweet

Of merry laugh and prattling talk—

No more to see the busy feet

 Prev. P 50/105 next