|About BARCLAY & MCRAE FAMILIES
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old photos keep the present and the future in touch with the past STRANGERS IN THE BOX Come, look with me inside this drawer, In this box I've often seen, At the pictures,black and white, Faces proud, still, serene. I wish I knew the people, These strangers in the box, Their names and all their memories Are lost among my socks I wonder what their lives were like, How did they spend their days? What about their special times? I'll never know their ways. If only someone had taken time To tell who,what,where,or when, These faces of my heritage Would come to life again Could this become the fate Of the pictures we take today? The faces and the memories Someday to be passed away? Make time to save your stories, Seize the opportunity when it knocks, Or someday you and yours could be The strangers in the box Anonymous On the Death of John Barclay, Tulloch Field - March 1864” Death long delayed has come at last, His troubles are now o’er, Those weary eyes at length are closed To ope’ on earth no more. The face so calm which meets my gaze, The broad and lofty brow, Evewhile expressed a noble soul Thats gone for ever now. Though in this life his lot was low, And he sore toil endured, A lowly heart exalted it, And happiness secured. And when the weight of many years That bowed his stately form, Though dimmed his eye and dulled his ear, His heart was ever warm. But now that warmly beating heart Is cold as any clay; His earthly house returns to earth, A victim to decay. Not so its inmate; he has gone To those who went before, To those he loved while here on earth, Whom death does now restore. With them forever shall he hold Communion large and high; No troubles such as here assail, Shall ever cause a sigh. A brighter glory shall be his, Than this earths fading fame; Its brightness ever shall increase A clear and undimmed flame. William Barclay . January 1865