100
L'ENVOI.
Then was he strange, no single grief or pleasure
Bound to our lives his presence like a spell;
Now, when he holds our memory's dearest treasure,
Shall we forget to bless and say farewell?
Bound to our lives his presence like a spell;
Now, when he holds our memory's dearest treasure,
Shall we forget to bless and say farewell?
Nay! for though fast the Future's ties may bind us,
Fair with the light her witcheries may cast,
She cannot hide the tender gloom behind us,
She cannot hush the whispers of the Past.
Fair with the light her witcheries may cast,
She cannot hide the tender gloom behind us,
She cannot hush the whispers of the Past.
Yet as we bend to pluck the opening flowers,
We'll think of one, though faded all more dear,
And while we touch glad chords in joyous hours,
Some broken echo sweeter still we hear.
We'll think of one, though faded all more dear,
And while we touch glad chords in joyous hours,
Some broken echo sweeter still we hear.
For in life's paths of honor and of duty
Each day fulfills the promise of the last,
He best may hope to win the future's beauty,
Who best has kept the treasures of the past.
Each day fulfills the promise of the last,
He best may hope to win the future's beauty,
Who best has kept the treasures of the past.
