A Memory LITTLE elfin maid, Old, though scarce two years, With your big dark hazel eyes Tenderer than tears, And your rosebud mouth Lisping jocund things, Breaking brooding silence with Wistful questionings! Like a flower you grew While life's bright sun shone. Does the greedy spendthrift earth Heed a flower is gone? No; but Love's fond ken, That gropes through d**h's dark ways, Almost seems to hear your Voice, Seems to see your Face!