1823 FMN


[Poetical] Address.  

 [Pages 3-4]

Another year is gone and past,
Nor life, nor time, was made to last:
As through the months which are no more,
So through the time now passing o'er,
I said, and say, each fleeting day,

Forget Me Not.
While the chill Winter's bound in frost,
And Nature's gayest beauty's lost;
While the crackling dry faggots blaze,
And echoing songs the Minstrels raise;
Through day or night, 'mid your delight,

Forget Me Not.
When Phoebus calls the blooming Spring,
And tells the nightingale to sing;
When other strains, and other measures,
Awake the soul to softer pleasures;
Amid the day, while zephyrs play,

Forget Me Not.
When Summer bids its bounty yield
The yellow harvests of the field;
When rural sports the hear employ
In many a festival of joy;
Amid those hours, in shady bowers,

Forget Me Not.
When Autumn's loaded branches shine,
And bursting clusters give their wine;
When the yearly sun grows old,
And heat begins to yield to cold,
While the leaves fall--within the hall

Forget Me Not.
Through ev'ry change and chance of time,
In life's first days, in pleasure's prime;
Or, in advancing years, when age
Begins to mark life's closing page;
Through the varying seasons all,
Whate'er my lot, Forget Me Not,
And keep my gift, though the gift be small.