( 202 ) 
“Forget” Thee, Mother? 
“Forget” thee, mother? What? forget 
The eyes that first gazed into mine ? 
That watched me, when my life was young 
With watchfulness almost divine? 
“Forget” theef What? forget the lips 
That to mine own so oft were pressed ? 
That moved for me in many a prayer 
While sweet I slumbered on thy breast ? 
“Forget” thee , mother? What? forget 
The tender pathos of that voice , 
That made, as never other could , 
My tears depart, and soul rejoice? 
“Forget” thee? Yes, I shall forget 
Thy face, thy voice, thy lips, thy eyes! 
But not till Death's unsparing hand 
Upon me falls , and memory dies! — Anon. 
TV 1®1 6\ne Tfee. 
This majestic tree rises with a straight, smooth, branching stem to 
a great height, with palmated leaves, and long, pendulous peduncles, sus¬ 
taining several heads of small, close-sitting flowers. 
Genius. 
“All the means of action— 
The shapeless mass, the materials— 
Lie everywhere about us. What we need 
Is the celestial fire to change the flint 
Into transparent crystal, bright and clear. 
That fire is genius !” 
— Longfellow. 
