When morning, from the damps of night,
Beams on the eye with rosy light,
And calls thee forth with smile benign--
Then think whose heart responds to thine,
And still, with sympathy divine,
"Remember me."
When gentle twilight, pure and calm,
Comes leaning on reflection's arm,
When o'er the throngs of cares and woes,
Her veil of sober tints she throws
And woos the spirit to repose,
"Remember me."
When the first star, with crescent bright,
Beams lonely from the arch of night,
The moon sends forth her cheering glance,
Then--gazing on the blue expanse,
"Remember me."
When mournful sighs the hollow wind,
And pensive thoughts enwrap the mind,
If e'er thy heart, in sorrow's tone,
Should sigh, because it feels alone,--
"Remember me."
When passing to thy silent bower,--
Devotion claims the sacred hour,--
When bending o'er the holy page,
Whose spirit calms affliction's rage,
Directs our youth and cheers our age,
"Remember me."
Oh! yet indulge the ardent claim,
While friendship's heart the wish can frame,
For, oh! but transient is my lay--
And, mingling soon with kindred clay,
My silent lip no more shall say
"Remember me."
And when in deep oblivion's shade,
My cold and mouldering form is laid,
If near that bed thy steps should rove,
With one short prayer, by feeling wove,
One glance of faith, or tear of love,
"Remember me."
For the Southern Literary Messenger.