Forget Thee?
" FORGET thee? " If to dream by night and muse on thee by day,
If all the worship deep and wild a poet's heart can pay,
If prayers in absence breathed for thee to Heaven's protecting power,
If winged thoughts that flit to thee — a thousand in an hour —
If busy fancy blending thee with all my future lot —
If this thou call'st " forgetting, " thou, indeed, shalt be forgot!
" Forget thee? " Bid the forest-birds forget their sweetest tune;
" Forget thee? " Bid the sea forget to swell beneath the moon;
Bid the thirsty flowers forget to drink the eve's refreshing dew;
Thyself forget thine own " dear land, " and its " mountains wild and blue. "
Forget each old familiar face, each long-remember'd spot —
When these things are forgot by thee, then thou shalt be forgot!
Keep, if thou wilt, thy maiden peace, still calm and fancy-free,
For God forbid thy gladsome heart should grow less glad for me;
Yet, while that heart is still unwon, oh! bid not mine to rove,
But let it nurse its humble faith and uncomplaining love;
If these, preserved for patient years, at last avail me not,
Forget me then; but ne'er believe that thou canst be forgot!
If all the worship deep and wild a poet's heart can pay,
If prayers in absence breathed for thee to Heaven's protecting power,
If winged thoughts that flit to thee — a thousand in an hour —
If busy fancy blending thee with all my future lot —
If this thou call'st " forgetting, " thou, indeed, shalt be forgot!
" Forget thee? " Bid the forest-birds forget their sweetest tune;
" Forget thee? " Bid the sea forget to swell beneath the moon;
Bid the thirsty flowers forget to drink the eve's refreshing dew;
Thyself forget thine own " dear land, " and its " mountains wild and blue. "
Forget each old familiar face, each long-remember'd spot —
When these things are forgot by thee, then thou shalt be forgot!
Keep, if thou wilt, thy maiden peace, still calm and fancy-free,
For God forbid thy gladsome heart should grow less glad for me;
Yet, while that heart is still unwon, oh! bid not mine to rove,
But let it nurse its humble faith and uncomplaining love;
If these, preserved for patient years, at last avail me not,
Forget me then; but ne'er believe that thou canst be forgot!
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