Photo Shoot

Thy laughter yet doth linger in my mind, We hasten down the stair to take our glass, The camera’s eye did catch us, framed, confined, And we did keep that moment as it pass’d. We laughed, we laughed, and ceas’d not yet. Once heard I say thou wert most fair to see, So spake the world, but I believ’d it not, Till now thy cheek grows pale with age’s decree. I pray this mirth depart me nevermore, But let me dwell where laughter dwelleth still. Yet time, unkind, doth tarry not for man, Now thou liest wan upon thy bed of rest, Thy hair turn’d grey as winter’s silver bran. Thou art my gentle grandam, lov’d and blest, And I thy nephew, grac’d by Heaven’s will, To be thy best, and love thee dearest still. Now thou art gone, my heart lies still as stone, I shall not hear thy laughter any more, But mem’ries of us shine like stars alone, And fly like comets o’er my heart’s own door. When thou wert gone, a final glass was ta’en, It caught my grief, my silent, weeping pain.