Not many now recall that flame,
The Libraries' old guide;
Few memories can praise or blame
The light that lately died.
What Raynard may have meant to those
Who went before, few know
Save Weber, from whose pen arose
An echo of his glow.
We read he was indeed a Ray,
A beacon without bend
Whose light we yet, this later day,
Though all unknowing, tend.
As future days our present glows
Extinguish in the past,
May fate permit each also shows
A legacy to last.
Originally published in SUL News Notes, March 24, 1995.
c 1995, 1996 Fleabonnet Press for the author.