A. H. Haynes Bell - Dead Memories lyrics

As when a son by his dead father kneels, And cries, "Forgive me! Father, I repent!" Those pallid lips make no acknowledgment, Nor any smile across those features steals; Yea, though he grasps his hand, the dead nor feels, Nor moves, nor knows the form above him bent, But now past all approval or dissent, Turns a deaf ear to all that son's appeals: So, too, with us, when tearfully we stand Beside dead memories of the days which were; Could we but grasp again that loving hand! Could we but speak again to him or her! In vain; as well expect at our command The silent dead to smile again or stir.