People pass by slowly,
And then are invisible.
Even the most constant hum upon the ears--
Will, by its consistency, become dull.
Ah! But what of the pain that smoke creates?
Surely that!
Blackening up the lungs and smothering breath;
This vile thing is not forgotten?
Nay; but even this, floats away
Till merely tendrils~ in the tenderest trail.
O why this drift?
Why this ebb of memory?
"Lost but not forgotten" marble always reads;
Though writ in stone, it tells little truth.
Eternal Throne Above,
Oh Thee alone know these all,
One by one, forgotten.
Bend Thine arm and save that which is Lost!