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ON PRESENTATION OP HIS PHOTOGRAPH.
Dear friend! Accept this token small
Of my sincere regard,
It will not humble you at all,
Nor seek for a reward.
Tried by the artist's dainty skill,
No taint nor shade is lost,
An age will see it blooming yet
Like evergreens in frost.
And yet, when I am laid at rest.
If you think to reward,
Then show it to each friendly guest.
And say he was a bard:
Who sang among fair Mona's hills,
The charms he loved so dear,
And wandering by the mountain rills,
When none but God was near.—
Ere long his song will die and cease,
His notes will rise no more:
But yet he hopes to sleep in peace
Upon some kinder shore.
