You asked me to write in your album,
To put something original in;
But there's nothing original in me,
Except original sin.

I would wish to write in your album,
A thought so wondrous sweet;
That whenever in future you read it,
Your heart will joyously beat,
The thought that I seek is elusive;
I have heard it sometimes in a dream,
I caught it almost in a tone of your voice,
I have seen it deep down in a stream;
No words can ever express it;
Our language too formal may be,
But if ever you feel it and know it
You'll remember and think then of me.

By Annie Louisa Ogg
Knockdolian
Colmonell
circa 1908