* * *

My Wars are laid away in Books —

I have one Battle more —

A Foe whom I have never seen

But oft has scanned me o’er —

And hesitated me between

And others at my side,

But chose the best — Neglecting me — till

All the rest have died —

How sweet if I am not forgot

By Chums that passed away —

Since Playmates at threescore and ten

Are such a scarcity —