AN OLD DAGUERREOTYPE
THE rounded case shows age's tinge
And just a trace of mold;
The back displays a broken hinge
That still contrives to hold;
The picture face within is faint,
The dust away you wipe
And see the limning of a saint—
An old daguerreotype.
The while she posed, a winsome lass,
The soul of girlish grace,
An artist prisoned 'neath this glass
The beauty of her face;
The curls that crowned her maiden brow,
The cheeks as cherries ripe—
A legacy from Then to Now,
An old daguerreotype.
'Tis meet that such a face, so pure,
Should with its smiles live on,
In hearts of later growth endure,
Though she herself be gone.
Her grave with grass is grown about,
Around it plovers pipe,
But she still lives and smiles from out
An old daguerreotype.
Roy Farrell Greene.
(End of text. Please refer to our textnote regarding this text.)
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