Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1883-03-31
BROKEN MEMORIES IN BROKEN RHYMES.

There's little graveyard brother, where the Lom-
hardy poplars wave,
Forever and forever, and above little grave;
Though the greensward has subsidized, and there's no
Twas when we were boys together-yet should
know 1t well.
When we were boys together Oh how far we
must have Iun,
The matin and the vesper blend so mournfuly in
one.
I'm a-weary with the watching, through this beings
For the dear dim days, my brother, that round
ed into stars
The last time that was there, brother, robin had
wove nest,
In the little fence they buded round the sleeper in
his rest
But the nest was silent. brother, not bird was
there to sing,
Where song itself once nestled, ere song had taken
wing.
am sure you must remember, the little grave
mean
There are only you and 1 now, but there was one
Twas before that grave was followed and before
that song had fed,
And before they told me, weeping, that the oeau'
tiful was dead.
Oh they tell US Of the future-of purer lives and
But sbouIop't wonder brother we were nearer
Heaven then
II by Iife's wild tempest driven, that sweet port
we've drifted past
Oh send pilot, gentle Heaven, 10 bring US back
as last.
From home to home, my brother oh how breath
less the bliss,
To be the boys together therein that world as in
this
Methougbs heard hail, brother, and it syllabled
my name
Oh ship your car moment, let US listen whence
II came.
There away, like moonlight breaking, something
dawning through the dark
Now the shadow shape is tAkipg-sail Of silver !
silver barque!
In the bow there stands an angel, and cherub by
her side;
And that cherub, trust me brother is the little boy
that died
Angel No But wife and woman she that looked
me into love-
While below she sweetly waited for her wings, and
went above.
Had seen through her Disgusting, could | so have
loved and mourned?
Oh that loving and that weeping, would have been
10 worship turned.
As maiden at her window watches Loves pale
planet rise,
So my MARYs soul was watching, ever watching at
her eyes.
As the maiden footsteps hearing from the darkened
window flying
So some angel, earthward nearing, lured my Mary
into dying
oh in what far seas we wander-for we must be off
that shore,
Where none ever stranded, yet none are heard of
more.
am sure there is no record left, of one that
sailed.
Who was ever in such music, by such vision hailed.
But that lonely graveyard. brOther-in its bosom let
me rest,
with the turf as green above me, SIS my chdhOod's
feet impressed;
Where our mothers songs still inger, linger in the
evening air,
sweetly dreainIess, could slumber-slumber there,
If anywhere2
When this bsings wild campaigning, and the dreary
march Is done.
viii you bear me then, my brother, where that
march at morn begun
But remember-not a mournerl Let no tears be
shed for him,
For whose worthless sake when living, loving eyes
could ere grow dim.
VIII you rear a tablet, brother, with this simple
blem graced,
Just a females figure bending-on her lips finger
placed
Thus they'll read it who may linger Silent he,
and silent we
What he was-but that's all over what he is, is
naught to thee p