My Wars are laid away in Books —
I have one Battle more —
A Foe whom I have never seen
But oft has scanned me o’er —
And hesitated me between
And others at my side,
But chose the best — Neglecting me — till
All the rest, have died —
How sweet if I am not forgot
By Chums that passed away —
Since Playmates at threescore and ten
Are such a scarcity —