A Memory.

When first I kissed my Nancy
'Twas on a railway train
A little tuft of thistledown
Danced by the window pane.
She asked me what it symbolised
I kissed her to explain.
When first I kissed my Nancy
'Twas on a railway train.
Her heart was light as thistledown
Her mouth as soft as rain.
And something wakened in her eyes
That long asleep had lain.
It seems but yesterday somehow.
Where's thistledown, where's Nancy now?

J. Connelly.

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