FOR GE T-ME-NO T, 1 2 1 
“ Forget me not !” the thunder roars, 
As it bursts its sulphury cloud ; 
Tis murmured by the distant hills 
In echoes'long and loud; 
'Tis written by the Almighty’s hand 
In characters of flame, 
When the lightnings gleam with vivid flash, 
And His wra^h and power proclaim. 
'Tis murmured when the white wave falls 
Upon the wreck-strewn shore, 
• As a hoary warrior bows his crest 
When his day of work is o’er. 
Go ! speed thee forth when the beamy sun 
O’erthrows the reign of night, 
And strips the scene of its misty robe, 
And arrays it in diamonds bright. 
Oh ! as thou drinkest health and joy 
In the fresh and balmy air, 
“ Forget me not,” in a still small voice 
Will surely greet thee there. 
Oh! who that sees the vermeil cheek 
Grow day by day more pale, 
. And Beauty’s form to shrink before 
The summer’s gentlest gale, 
But thinks of Him, the mighty One, 
By whom the blow is given, 
As if the fairest flowers of earth 
W ere early plucked for heaven. 
Oh ! yes, on every side we see 
The impress of His hand ; 
The air we breathe is full of Him, 
And the earth on which we stand. 
