I hold a token in my hand,
A very tiny thing;
And yet within its golden band
A thousand memories cling.
Aye! thrice ten thousand memories cling
Of signal victories won,
Enshrined within this little ring,
Reward of duty done.
I ever shall this token prize,
And wear it with true grace -
The tie that binds the kindred ties
Of friendship race to race.
And when I soar full through the skies,
Yet ever will I cling
Within the gates of Paradise
This sacred little ring!
The Mayor's Ring
Edward Smyth Jones
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Poem topics: paradise, true, duty, hold, golden, reward, token, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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