He passed away, and now forever stands As close to God as gentle Damien. [Pg 10] [Pg 10] The Light-o'-Love The dogs were whining; they sensed too well The load upon the sled; The rough-hewn box with the light-o'-love— A girl, 'twas said. A week ago, at the Palace Bar, She sang the songs of France; But many a heart is lead the while The feet must dance. Kisses she gave and kisses she took, Sinned for her daily bread; But all we knew as we eyed the box Was: she was dead. We placed upon it (How much it hurt Only the good God knows!) A gaud she had worn in her dusky hair—