Page:Felicia Hemans in The Monthly Magazine Volume 4 1827.pdf/5



will ye think of me, my friends? When will ye think of me? —When the last red light of the sunny day From the rock and the river is passing away; When the air with a deep'ning hush is fraught, And the heart grows burdened with tender thought; Then let it be!

When will ye think of me, kind friends? When will ye think of me? —When the rose of the rich midsummer-time Is filled with the hues of its glorious prime; When ye gather its bloom, as in bright hours fled, From the walks where my footsteps no more may tread; Then let it be!

When will ye think of me, sweet friends? When will ye think of me? —When the sudden tears o'erflow your eye At the sound of some olden melody; When ye hear the voice of a mountain-stream; When ye feel the charm of a poet's dream— Then let it be!

Thus let my mem'ry be with you, friends! Thus ever think of me! Kindly and gently, but as of one For whom 'tis well to be fled and gone; As of a bird from a chain unbound; As of a wand'rer whose home is found— So let it be!