O, Genevieve, sweet Genevieve,
The days may bring me joy or woe,
But still the hands of Memory weave
The blissful dreams of long ago,
Sweet Genevieve!
— George Cooper
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More quotes by George Cooper
Brave the storm with firm endevor,
Let your vain repinings go!
Hopeful hearts will find forever—
Roses underneath the snow.
After the shower, the tranquil sun;
After the snow, the emerald leaves;
Silver stars when the day is done;
After the harvest, golden grain.
"Come, little leaves," said the wind one day,—
"Come o'er the meadows with me, and play;
Put on your dresses of red and gold:
Summer is gone, and the days grow cold."
For the dear old Flag I die,
Mother, dry your weeping eye;
For the honor of our land
And the dear old Flag I die.
To do Thy holy will;
To bear Thy cross;
To trust Thy mercy still,
In pain or loss;
Poor gifts are these to bring,
Dear Lord, to Thee,
Who hast done everything
For me!
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