Читать книгу Belford's Magazine, Vol 2, December 1888 - Various - Страница 7

"Forget – forget me not!"

Vain, piteous human prayer!

We all are doomed to be forgot;

It is, alas! the common lot

Of mortals everywhere.

'Tis everywhere the same;

Over the olden stone

That bears the once dear dead one's name,

Whom love and tears could not reclaim,

The willow weeps alone!

There is no sadder thought

Of death and its sweet rest

Than that we are so soon forgot —

E'en in those hearts remembered not,

That we have loved the best.

It hath been so, and must

So be for aye and aye:

And though it seemeth hardly just,

Affection will not cling to dust,

Nor linger with decay.

Where'er above the dead

The gentle willow waves,

The warmest tears are ever shed,

The freshest flowers ever spread,

Over the freshest graves!