Ah, we fondly cherish
Faded things
That had better perish.
Memory clings
To each leaf it saves.
Chilly winds are blowing.
It will soon be snowing
On our graves. (John Henry Boner)

Ah, we fondly cherish Faded things That had better perish. Memory clings To each leaf it saves. Chilly winds are blowing. It will soon be snowing On our graves.

John Henry Boner

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