ONLY A FADED ROSE.
Copyright, 1898, by A. M. Mansfield.
Words and Music by E. P. Favor.
An old man by the kitchen door sat reading one summer's day,
While by his side, upon the floor, his nephew was at play,
And as he slowly turned a page he heard a heavy sigh,
For. from the book, he quickly took a rose, all withered and dry,
"What is the matter, uncle dear? what makes you look so sad?
Have I done any wrong while here, please tell me if I have?"
No, no, my child, it is not you that makes me shed a tear,
It Is this rose, the thoughts of past, come, listen, the story hear:
'Tis only a faded rose, I know, to me, 'tis a precious gem.
It takes me back to long ago, to younger days again;
I sought to win the hand of one, one loved better than gold,
But she was false, and all I have, is just this faded rose.
It was the time when war broke out. said the old man to the lad.
I to the front went, with a shout, the parting, too, was sad;
she gave me this rose, once so fair, and with a look of pain.
Said, take it, Ned, and we'll be wed, when you return again.
The war was ended soon, my child, I came back crowned with fame;
My heart was broken, I was wild, another her had claimed.
That's why I'm single, live alone, no children at my knee.
And just this rose is all I have, I hope she thinks of me.-Ref.