234 MEMORY. 
SYRINGA. 
PhUadelphus Odorus. 
Language MEMORY. 
I THINK of thee wlien young and beauteous morning 
Has thrown her mantle o'er the realms of night, 
The sky, and earth, and nature, all adorning 
With robes of light. 
And when around the evening shades are creeping, 
And not a breath disturbs the tranquil sea, 
"When starlit skies their dewy tears are weeping, 
I think of thee. 
Thy gentle voice ! I often, often hear it. 
When from the din of day I fain would flee. 
And in the hushed and voiceless night my spirit 
Returns to thee. 
I know that here I never more shall meet thee. 
For thou hast passed to brighter worlds above ; 
And there dost wait, an angel fair, to greet me, 
In realms of love. 
But O, thy token, by fond memory given. 
Of love unchanging, softens all my woe ; 
And the sweet hope of joining thee in heaven 
Is bliss below ! 
