Chapter_80

2 0 00

In this Album you may trace⁠—

If not the lineaments of face⁠—

Here, at least, you will find

Photographs of the mind.

Some in earnest, some in fun,

Some do lecture, some do pun;

Here the maiden and the youth,

Each proclaim some precious truth.

And there is some fine pages⁠—

Written by maturer ages⁠—

They show that time is brief,

That soon comes sere and yellow leaf.

But we must cease, ’ere your ire

Be aroused ’gainst McIntyre,

Who doth reside in Ingersoll⁠—

Perhaps you’ll think that he is droll.