Littell's Living Age/Volume 130/Issue 1681/My Treasures

by Hattie A. Feuling

MY TREASURES.

I count my treasures o'er and o'er
Gifts of the past, a golden store,
And time can give me nothing more.

The little ring she used to wear,
A shadow picture, sweet and fair,
Dead violets, and a tress of hair.

Frail keys, that ope to bygone time,
I wander on and reach a clime
Where bells of morning ever chime.

There all my fair possessions lie,
My castles that no wealth can buy
Their golden summits in the sky.

O youth, to feel death's breath of frost!
O little hands too early crossed!
Nor love nor faith can count you lost.

H. A. Feuling.⁠

⁠Good Samaritan.