FORGET-ME-NOT. 
Oh how the spring of love resembleth 
The uncertain glories of an April day, 
Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, 
And by and by a cloud takes all away. 
Shakspeare. 
Perfect esteem, enlivened by desire 
Ineffable, and sympathy of soul; 
Thought meeting thought, and will prevent¬ 
ing will. 
With boundless confidence. 
Thomson. 
