That name, it speaks in accents dear 
Of love, and hope, and joy, and fear; 
It softly tells an absent fri end 
That links of love should never rend ; 
Its whispers waft on swelling breeze 
O’er hill, and dale, by land and seas, 
Forget-me-not ! 
Gem of the rill ! we love to greet 
Thy blossoms smiling at our feet. 
We fancy to thy flow’ret given 
A semblance of the azuré heaven; 
And deem thine eye of gold to be 
The star that gleams so brilliantly. 
