

FLORA‘’S ALBUM. 

Moonwort. 
FORGETFULNESS 
O Memory! torture me no more ; 
The present ’s all o’ercast ; 
My hopes of future bliss are o’er, 
| In mercy veil the past. 
Why bring those images to view 
: I henceforth must resign ? 
| Ah! why those happy hours renew 
That never can be mine? 

Past pleasure doubles present pain, 
To sorrow adds regret ; 
Regret and hope are both in vain ; 
I ask but to — forget. BYRON. 
You "ll be forgotten —as old debts 
By persons who are used to borrow ; 
Forgotten —as the sun that sets, 
When shines a new one on the morrow; 
Forgotten — like the luscious peach, 
That blest the school-boy last September ; 
Forgotten — like a maiden speech 
Which all men praise, but none remember. 
W. P. PRAED. 



































