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the souvenir.
Such are toe fragrant whisperers who converse, counsel, guide,
And day by day with magic power fling memory's portals wide.
And day by day with magic power fling memory's portals wide.
In front, a sprig bestudded o'er with bright blue stars appears,
"Forget me not" it seems to sigh, its soft eye fraught with tears;
It bloom'd upon a streamlet's verge which murmurs by our cot,
The burden of whose passing song would seem "Forget me not."
"Forget me not!" ah! many a tone steals through that gentle bloom,
The distant sigh it to my heart—it trembles from the tomb;
And years come back like yesterdays, with all that with them sped—
Ah, no! ye shall not be forgot, ye distant and ye dead!
"Forget me not" it seems to sigh, its soft eye fraught with tears;
It bloom'd upon a streamlet's verge which murmurs by our cot,
The burden of whose passing song would seem "Forget me not."
"Forget me not!" ah! many a tone steals through that gentle bloom,
The distant sigh it to my heart—it trembles from the tomb;
And years come back like yesterdays, with all that with them sped—
Ah, no! ye shall not be forgot, ye distant and ye dead!
And here, a beauteous trio blends all hearts must love to view,
Upon the river's sloping bank in starry groups they grew:
The buttercup, and daisy fair, the primrose wild and sweet,
With childhood's merry voices and young life's bright morn replete.
Upon the river's sloping bank in starry groups they grew:
The buttercup, and daisy fair, the primrose wild and sweet,
With childhood's merry voices and young life's bright morn replete.
