Wilt thou remember me.
[Patrick Maxwell, editor of Miss Blamire's Poetical Works. Tune, "Good night, and joy be ye a'."—Here first printed.]
Farewell! and, when I'm far away,
O say, wilt thou remember me,
When favour'd friends and faces gay
Their soul's pure incense tender thee?—
When all around are glad the while,
And glory in thy loveliness;—
When every heart shall own thy smile
Its proudest aim—its highest bliss?
This may not be: thou know'st me not,
A wand'rer on life's weary road;
Yet will I bless my happy lot
That led me to thy lov'd abode.
I may not claim to have a part
In thy dear breast, thou being fair;
Yet, Lady, could'st thou see my heart,
Thyself thou would'st find pictur'd there!
There it will dwell, and time defy
So dear a record to erase;—
Jiemorial of a dream gone by,
The best, the brightest of my days.
O that we had together met
When youth and hope alike were new;
My wither'd heart perhaps had yet
Been spar'd the pangs of this adieu!