The golden treasury of American songs and lyrics . e lengthening shadows pass, Her little mourners, clad in black, The crickets, sliding through the grass,Shall pipe for her an evening mass. At

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Download this stock image: The golden treasury of American songs and lyrics . e lengthening shadows pass, Her little mourners, clad in black, The crickets, sliding through the grass,Shall pipe for her an evening mass. At last the rootlets of the trees Shall find the prison where she lies, And bear the buried dust they seizeIn leaves and blossoms to the skies.So may the soul that warmed it rise! If any, born of kindlier blood. Should ask. What maiden lies below ? Say only this: A tender bud, That tried to blossom in the snow.Lies withered where the violets blow. O. W. Holmes. S AMERICAN SONGS AND LYRICS. PjAUGHTERS of Ti - 2AWMK3J from Alamy's library of millions of high resolution stock photos, illustrations and vectors.
The golden treasury of American songs and lyrics . e lengthening shadows  pass, Her little mourners, clad in black, The crickets, sliding through the  grass,Shall pipe for her an evening mass. At
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The golden treasury of American songs and lyrics . e lengthening shadows  pass, Her little mourners, clad in black, The crickets, sliding through the  grass,Shall pipe for her an evening mass. At
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The golden treasury of American songs and lyrics . e lengthening shadows  pass, Her little mourners, clad in black, The crickets, sliding through the  grass,Shall pipe for her an evening mass. At
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The golden treasury of American songs and lyrics . e lengthening shadows  pass, Her little mourners, clad in black, The crickets, sliding through the  grass,Shall pipe for her an evening mass. At
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The golden treasury of American songs and lyrics . e lengthening shadows  pass, Her little mourners, clad in black, The crickets, sliding through the  grass,Shall pipe for her an evening mass. At
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The golden treasury of American songs and lyrics . e lengthening shadows  pass, Her little mourners, clad in black, The crickets, sliding through the  grass,Shall pipe for her an evening mass. At
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The golden treasury of American songs and lyrics . e lengthening shadows  pass, Her little mourners, clad in black, The crickets, sliding through the  grass,Shall pipe for her an evening mass. At
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