264 
HAKE-BELL. 
- Tho’ feeble, frail and helpless, 
God makes her strong to bear 
The storms of dark affliction. 
And weight of weary care. 
THE FORGET ME NOT. 
Not on the mountain’s shelving side, 
Nor in the cultivated ground. 
Nor in the garden’s painted pride. 
The flower I seek is found. 
Where Time on sorrow’s page of gloom 
Has fix’d its envious lot. 
Or swept the record from the tomb. 
It says. Forget-me-not. 
And this is still the loveliest flower. 
The fairest of the fair. 
Of all that deck my lady’s bower. 
Or bind her floating hair. 
