Page:Felicia Hemans in Forget Me Not 1826.pdf/3



Now in thy youth, beseech of Him Who giveth, upbraiding not, That his light in thy heart become not dim, And his love be unforgot; And thy God, in the darkest of days, will be Greenness, and beauty, and strength, to thee. .

! 'tis a holy hour!—the quiet room Seems like a temple, while yon soft lamp sheds A faint and starry radiance, through the gloom And the sweet stillness, down on bright young heads, With all their clustering locks, untouch'd by care, And bow'd—as flowers are bow'd with night—in prayer.

Gaze on, 'tis lovely!—childhood's lip and cheek, Mantling beneath its earnest brow of thought! Gaze, yet what seest thou in those fair and meek And fragile things, as but for sunshine wrought? —Thou seest what grief must nurture for the sky, What death must fashion for eternity!