144 
FORGET-ME-NOT. 
Whose name forbids us to forget, 
Would be the chosen coronet, 
Love on the loveliest brow would set 
To crave fond Memory’s aid. 
When, “ earth to earth,” and “ dust to dust,” 
The loved, lamented, we entrust, 
What flower may grace the spot, 
Where sleep the reliques of the dead, 
For whom the frequent tear is shed, 
Like thine — which, from the grave’s cold bed, 
Repeats “ Forget-me-not ?” 
SONG OF THE FORGET-ME-NOT. 
ANON. 
How many bright flowers now around me are glancing, 
Each seeking its praise, or its beauty enhancing! 
The Rose-buds are hanging like gems in the air 
And the Lily-bell waves in her fragrance there. 
Alas! I can claim neither fortune nor power, 
Neither beauty nor fragrance are cast in my lot; 
But contented I cling to my lowly bower, 
And smile while I whisper — “ Forget-me-not /” 
The jasmine so lovely is o’er me entwining, 
With the sweet-scented Violet its odours combining,— 
May their discord be ended, and, smiling in peace, 
Be it long ere their sweet dreams of happiness cease! 
