Rememebtance.

Rememebtance.
256.2

Soft! and low the music came,
And yet it every crevice filled;
Strains of melody so sweet
That s’en the mocking bird was stilled.

And then there came the silence, doe
When every note had passed away,
Leaving naught but emptiness–
A barren earth and skies of gray.
-Milwaukee Sentinel.