'TIS BUT .A LITTLE'

FADED FLOWER.
London W. S. FORTEY, G.,eral Steam Printer
and Publieher, 2 & 3, Monmouth Conrt, Seven Dials

"Tis but a little faded flower,
SBut oh, how fondly dear,
'Twill bring me back one golden hour,
Through many, through many a weary
year
I would not to the world impart
The secret, the secret of its power,
But treasured in my utmost heart
I keep my faded flower,
I keep my faded flower.
'Tis but a little faded flower,
But oh, how fondly dear.
'Twill bring me back one golden hour
Through many through many a weary
year.
Where is the heart that does not keep
Within its inmost eore,,
lome fond remembrance hidden deep,
Of days, of days, that are no more;
Who hath net saved some trifling thing,
More prized, more prized than jewels rare
A faded flower, a broken ring,
A tress of golden hair,
A tress of golden hair
'Tie but a little faded flower,
Once the fairest in May,
It brings me back my childhood hours,
Through woods where oft I used to stray,
B]t years have passed, and I have known
Youth's day dreams, youth's day dreams
fly away,
Jut like this little faded flower,
They pie and pam away.
They pine and pass away.