Dedication
TO MY SONS. When I began the incidents of yore, Still in my soul‘s depths treasured, to record, A voice within said: Soon, life‘s journey o‘er, Thy portrait sole remembrance will afford. And, ere the last hour also strikes for thee, Search thou the harvest of the vanished years. Not futile was thy toil, if thou canst see That for thy sons fruit from one seed appears. Upon the course of thine own life look back, Follow thy struggles upwards to the light； Methinks thy errors will not seem so black, If they thy loved ones serve to guide aright. And should they see the star which ‘mid the dark Illumed thy pathway to thy distant goal, Thither they‘ll turn the prow of their life bark； Its radiance their course also will control. Ay, when the ivy on my grave doth grow, When my dead hand the helm no more ob

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