THE FORGET-ME-NOT.
Drifting adown life's rapid stream,
And musing on man's lot,
Methought, upon the wave-worn bank,
Bloomed a Forget-me-not.
Quickly I drew me to the shore,
And culled the little flower.
Ah! ever in my mem'ry lives
The rapture of that hour.
But soon the sweet blue pass'd away,
Too swiftly fled my dream;
And now my bark drifts slowly on,
Down the dark, lonely stream.
Only above a soft light shines,
And whispers to my heart—
Place not thy love on aught below
From which thou soon must part.
Nor weep thou o'er thy faded flower;
It has but passed on high.
The tender blue thou deemest lost,
Beams on thee from the sky.
Then pray to Him, who reigns above,
That when this life is o'er,
Thou safe may'st find thy flow'ret sweet
Blooming on heaven's fair shore.
