Let fate do her worst, There are relics of joy, Bright dreams of the past, Which she can not destroy. That come in the nighttime of sorrow and care, And bring back the features That joy used to wear. Long, long, be my heart, With such memories filled. Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled. You may break, you may shatter, the vase if you will, But the scent of the roses Will hand 'round it still. --Thomas Moore-- You are forever in our hearts JR!