LETTERS OF THE DEAD.
The old familiar letters; and the hand That formed them now is crumbling in the clay! 0! could we press those hands! The joyous day Is smiling, speaking of a brighter land; But memory weeps, recalling fondest tones, That made existence music to the heart! Dear letters! blessed ghosts! We, too, depart, And long, for rest before we sleep ! Man owns Allegiance to the present, yet the dead Make Past and Future Life ; and bridges gleam Betwixt Eternity and Time, each stream Of love beneath, we fondly tread In shadowy silence, spectral also all, Until into God's loving arms we fall Victob L. Bbdingfield. Hamilton, March 23rd, 1878.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WT18780326.2.19
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Waikato Times, Volume XI, Issue 898, 26 March 1878, Page 3
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112LETTERS OF THE DEAD. Waikato Times, Volume XI, Issue 898, 26 March 1878, Page 3
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