(30 January 1775 – 17 September 1864 / Warwick)

There Falls With Every Wedding Chime

THERE falls with every wedding chime
A feather from the wing of Time.
You pick it up, and say “How fair
To look upon its colors are!”
Another drops day after day
Unheeded; not one word you say.
When bright and dusky are blown past,
Upon the hearse there nods the last.

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