Chapter 12 12

O star benignant and serene,

I take the good to-morrow,

That fills from verge to verge my dream,

With all its joy and sorrow!

The old sweet spell is unforgot

That turns to June December;

And, though the world remember not,

Love, we would remember.

Life and Death, W. E. HENLEY.

And Rogers went over to unpack. It was soon d