Reverie its solace lends
Sweet it is to scan the faces -
Picture faces - of old friends
Some have passed the mystic portals
Where the usher Death presides
Some to distant climes have wandered
Borne on Time's relentless tides;
Some, perchance, to paths unholy;
Some to deeds without a name
But the faces in the album
Are for aye and aye the same.
Picture faces! Oh what volumes
Of unwritten life ye hold:
Youthful faces! pure, sweet faces!
Dearly prized as we grow old"