Friday, October 19, 2012

In The Firelight Comments

Rating: 2.7

Come and sit by my side, my daughter, for memory stirs to-night
(How the wind on the wold is sighing, though our hearth is warm and bright!),
And I feel sunk in a slumber, with the past for a vivid dream;
Less real than the lost and vanished, do the living and present seem.
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Isabella Fyvie Mayo
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