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Rh Her chair now, see how curious the line Of dragons down the old mahogany And that daguerreotype—you almost see How red her cheeks and how her earrings shine. And that's her lustre crock for cherry wine, And that—ah, that frail web of filigree— Grandmother's wedding night-cap, worn when she First slept in that old bed you thought so fine.

Ah, little bride, when you and I are fled Beyond the farthest echo of to-day, And all our hearts immortalized is dead, And all our love dreamed amaranth is grey— Think you a broken net of silver thread Could mark the world how joyous was life's May?