THE MAYOR'S RING

By Edward Smyth Jones

I hold a token in my hand,

A very tiny thing;

And yet within its golden band

A thousand memories cling.

Aye! thrice ten thousand memories cling

Of signal victories won,

Enshrined within this little ring,

Reward of duty done.

I ever shall this token prize,

And wear it with true grace —

The tie that binds the kindred ties

Of friendship race to race.

And when I soar full through the skies,

Yet ever will I cling

Within the gates of Paradise

This sacred little ring!