[ 258 ] [MARCH, 



DO NOT FORGET ME, LOVE !" 



Do not forget thee," love ? 

 No by yon Heaven above, 



Life's sun must set 

 Whether prosperity 

 Come, or adversity 

 Ere what thou'st been to me 



I can forget. 



Man may indeed forego 

 Love, with its weal and woe ; 



But the strong net, 

 Once spread o'er woman's heart, 

 Ne'er may again depart 

 (Nature obeys not Art) 



Can she forget ? 



Dost thou remember when, 

 Down in yon hazel glen, 



First, love, we met ? 

 Sweet as athwart the lea 

 Murmured the summer sea, 

 What was thy vow to me 



Dost thou forget ? 



What, though no priest below 

 Sanctioned the solemn vow, 



Did we not set, 

 Stampt, on each word of bliss, 

 Love's own best seal a kiss ? 

 And was it but for this 



Thus to forget ? 



There was indeed an hour 

 When, spurning passion's power, 



Bright eyes were wet; 

 Childhood, in calm repose, 

 Wept o'er its withered rose : 

 Who such pure tears as those 



E'er can forget. 



Love, with its hopes and fears, 

 Sprang up why still with tears 



Are those eyes wet? 

 Love, once so pure, sublime 

 Love has become a crime ; 

 Yet spare youth's errors, Time ! 



Spare, and forget ! 



And thou, whose fatal smile 

 Played but round lips of guile, 



Leave me not yet : 

 Did I not, young and free, 

 Sailing Love's summer sea, 

 Hope, home, friends all for thee 



Strive to forget ? 



What, though we ne'er again 

 Meet on life's stormy main 



As we have met ; 

 Still, 'mid thy noon of fame, 

 Bright when burns Love's pure flame, 

 Henry, one little name 



Do riot forget ! H. B. 



