What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd! How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill.

Let the bucket of memory down into the well,bring it up. Cool, cool minutes. No onestirring, no plans. Just being there.

Let the bucket of memory down into the well,
bring it up. Cool, cool minutes. No one
stirring, no plans. Just being there.

To be remembered after we are dead, is but poor recompense for being treated with contempt while we are living.

Memory believes before knowing remembers. Believes longer than recollects, longer than knowing even wonders.

When promise and patience are wearing thin, When endurance is almost driven in, When our angels stand in a waiting hush, Remember the Marne and Ferdinand Foch.