Sweet {242}flower, that with thy soft blue eye
Didst once look up in shady spot,
To whisper to the passer-by
Those tender words--Forget-me-not!
Though withered now, thou art to me
The minister of gentle thought,--
And I could weep to gaze on thee,.
Love's faded pledge--Forget-me-not!
Thou speak'st of hours when I was young,
And happiness arose unsought;
When she, the whispering woods among,
Gave me thy bloom--Forget-me-not!
That rapturous hour with that dear maid
From memory's page no time shall blot,
When, yielding to my kiss, she said,
"Oh, Theodore--Forget me not!"
Alas {243}for love! alas for truth!
Alas for man's uncertain lot!
Alas for all the hopes of youth
That fade like thee--Forget-me-not!
Alas for that one image fair,
With all my brightest dreams inwrought!
That walks beside me everywhere,
Still whispering--Forget me not!
Oh, Memory! thou art but a sigh
For friendships dead and loves forgot,
And many a cold and altered eye
That once did say--Forget me not!
And I must bow me to thy laws,
For--odd although it may be thought--
I can't tell who the deuce it was
That gave me this Forget-me-not!