What a flood of sweet remembrance

Comes back to me tonight

As I sit and watch the embers' ruddy glow

In the shadows that are dancing.

On the wall I seem to see

The faces and the forms of long ago

Every shadow tells a story

Every flicker of the fire

Brings thoughts of someone dear

In distant climes

And my heart is ever yearning

For the picture memory weaves

Of the days I love to call old times

Old times, good days forever past and gone

Memory brings its treasures from all climes

Of friends so far away, of loved ones 'neath the clay

Who were with us in the good, old times

All alone I sit and ponder

While the embers fade and die

And the ashes fall like snowflakes on the hearth

Thinking sadly of the dear ones

That we want to gather here

They are scattered now alas, all o'er the earth

Like the fire my life is ending

All its grief's and pleasures gone

But memory like the swell of distant chimes

Brings me back again in vision

Of that I love to gaze upon

'Tis a vision of those good old times

 

Branch Come Home Year

August 9-19, 2007

Recollections

Andrew Joseph Nash

Mr. Andrew Joseph Nash

Early 1900’s