 | Hours at Naples, and Other Poems |  |
119
REMEMBER ME! REMEMBER ME!
When the sweet bulbul thrills the perfumed breeze,
And crescent-crowned gleam those pomegranate trees,
And thy Caique shoots through the slumbering Seas,
Remember me! Remember me!
I passionately pray of thee!
And crescent-crowned gleam those pomegranate trees,
And thy Caique shoots through the slumbering Seas,
Remember me! Remember me!
I passionately pray of thee!
When thou hast left this bright and blessed shore,
Perhaps to breathe its heavenly airs no more,
And home seems dearer than 'twas e'er before,
Remember me! Remember me!
I passionately pray of thee!
Perhaps to breathe its heavenly airs no more,
And home seems dearer than 'twas e'er before,
Remember me! Remember me!
I passionately pray of thee!
When the last flash of daylight is declining,
When Persian bowers are round thy head entwining,
When Persian eyes are all about thee shining,
Remember me! Remember me!
I passionately pray of thee!
When Persian bowers are round thy head entwining,
When Persian eyes are all about thee shining,
Remember me! Remember me!
I passionately pray of thee!
120
When thou hast met with careless hearts and cold,
Hearts that young love may touch, but never hold,
Not changeless, like the loved and left of old,
Remember me! Remember me!
I passionately pray of thee!
Hearts that young love may touch, but never hold,
Not changeless, like the loved and left of old,
Remember me! Remember me!
I passionately pray of thee!
When this World's griefs shall come to cloud thy brow,
When this World's smiles shall charm thee not as now,
When Light—Life—Love—and all are dimmed below,
Remember me! Remember me!
I passionately pray of thee!
When this World's smiles shall charm thee not as now,
When Light—Life—Love—and all are dimmed below,
Remember me! Remember me!
I passionately pray of thee!
When thy proud Soul its faults and follies mourns,
And the altered heart in thy struck bosom burns,
And Memory unto the pale Past returns—
Then most, Oh! most, Remember me!
I passionately pray of thee!
And the altered heart in thy struck bosom burns,
And Memory unto the pale Past returns—
Then most, Oh! most, Remember me!
I passionately pray of thee!
| Hours at Naples, and Other Poems | |