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
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Branch Come Home Year August 9-19, 2007 |
Recollections Andrew Joseph Nash |
Mr. Andrew Joseph Nash Early 1900’s |