by John Moultrie
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!
Last updated January 14, 2019