Presents, I Often Say, Endear Absents.

I Counsel Thee, Shut Not Thy Heart, Nor Thy Library.

May My Last Breath Be Drawn Through A Pipe, And Exhaled In A Jest.

Those Evening Bells! Those Evening Bells! How Many A Tale Their Music Tells Of Youth And Home, And That Sweet Time When Last I Heard Their Soothing Chime!

We All Have Some Taste Or Other, Of Too Ancient A Date To Admit Of Our Remembering It Was An Acquired One.

And The Tear That We Shed, Though In Secret It Rolls, Shall Long Keep His Memory Green In Our Souls.