We loved each other then, Lorena, More than we ever cared to tell; And what we might have been, Lorena, Had our lovings prospered well. But then ’tis passed; the years are gone; I’ll not call up their shadowy forms; I’ll say to them: Lost years, sleep on; Sleep on, nor heed life’s pelting storms. The story of the past, Lorena, Alas! I care not to repeat; The hopes that could not last, Lorena, They lived, but only lived to cheat. I would not cause e’en one regret To rankle in your bosom now, For “if we try, we may forget” Were words of thine long years ago. Yes, these were words of thine, Lorena, They burn within my memory yet; They touched some tender chord, Lorena, That thrills and trembles with regret. ’Twas not thy woman’s heart that spoke— Thy heart was always true to me; A duty, stern and pressing, broke The tie that linked my soul to thee. It matters little now, Lorena, The past is in the eternal past; Our heads will soon lie low, Lorena, Life’s tide is ebbing out so fast. There is a future! Oh, thank God! Of life this is so small a part! ’Tis dust to dust beneath the sod, But there—up there, ’tis ‘heart to heart.’” These words were written by Rev. H. D. L. Webster, born in Stamford, Conn., August 29, 1824; was educated in Columbus, Ohio, and preached at Zanesville, Ohio for some years, leaving there in 1848. The music was composed by J. P. Webster, but no relation. Ohio claims the writer and the song, but it is known and regarded as a Southern song, having been so extensively sung below Mason and Dixon’s line. “Lorena” was Miss Ella Blocksom, of Zanesville, Ohio. She was a member of Mr. Webster’s church—the Universalist—also a leading member of the choir, with a beautiful and highly cultivated voice. She was as lovely in face and person as her voice was sweet and touching; and it was but natural that the fine-looking, intelligent young divine should be attracted to that face that was each Sunday opposite him and listened so interestedly to his preaching. One describes her as “nineteen,” short in stature and petite, with blue eyes and light brown hair and features that took hold upon “the poetry of heaven.” She was the sister-in-law of one of the “pillars of the church,” a successful manufacturer, and of course the preacher found he often must consult this brother about ecclesiastical matters and see his pretty, charming sister-in-law. What real love affair ever ran smoothly? This one did not, for Lorena’s sister had better “game” for her to bring down than a poor, though handsome, intellectual preacher; so, like many another worldly-wise elder sister, she, after repeated efforts, made “Lorena” see that she and “Paul Vane,” as Mr. Webster called himself in one of his songs, must part.