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                                     Mar. 1862

[?] addressed to the giver of my watch

My watch! The dearest gift I have, to wear my heart now lying, A silent monitor to me, To tell me time is flying.

It brings up memories of the past, Our last but hurried meeting, I look upon its silent face, It whispers time is fleeting

It speaks in silent eloquence, In language to my soul I catch the saddened whisper now. That time's beyond control

I try to [?] grim future's veil, I hear it's still small tone [?]-[?] me act for present time [?] future let alone

[2]

It is a minister to me. Of never failing power It is my only confidant. And cheers my lonely hour's.

Tis' very very dear to me. Its calm pure face I love, I hear e'er now it's measured tones Pointing its hands above.

                        March 1862
               Composed by Bird Raum