ouue^nir ©o 



P!J^ 



BEB)1C/^TEB TO €€€€€^'-^ 



^^^^^■^■^^rK\n.i^D2 AND pup;l 



By trifles is the memory stirred 



Recalling things long passed away; 

 The scent of rose or new-mown hay. 

 The tint of cloud at close of day, 



Or sweetly given song of bird. 



THIS COPY IS HAND-COLORED 



BY 



G. d. /nAYNARB. 



No. 



