This was a text too, I was a math student but it was not a class I had, this was a 19th century book. The owner had embellished the inner covers and a few blan

This was a text too, I was a math student but it was not a class I had, this was a 19th century book. The owner had embellished the inner covers and a few blank pages there. In the most beautiful handwriting from a bold ink pen were a number of short passages, and one I will never forget: Remember me when death shall close my eyelids in the last repose And evening breezes gently wave the grass above your schoolmate's grave.