 | The American common-place book of poetry |  |
250
To a Sister.—Edward Everett.
Yes, dear one, to the envied train
Of those around thy homage pay;
But wilt thou never kindly deign
To think of him that's far away?
Thy form, thine eye, thine angel smile,
For many years I may not see;
But wilt thou not sometimes the while,
My sister dear, remember me?
Of those around thy homage pay;
But wilt thou never kindly deign
To think of him that's far away?
Thy form, thine eye, thine angel smile,
For many years I may not see;
But wilt thou not sometimes the while,
My sister dear, remember me?
But not in Fashion's brilliant hall,
Surrounded by the gay and fair,
And thou the fairest of them all,—
O, think not, think not of me there.
But when the thoughtless crowd is gone,
And hushed the voice of senseless glee,
And all is silent, still and lone,
And thou art sad, remember me.
Surrounded by the gay and fair,
And thou the fairest of them all,—
O, think not, think not of me there.
But when the thoughtless crowd is gone,
And hushed the voice of senseless glee,
And all is silent, still and lone,
And thou art sad, remember me.
Remember me—but, loveliest, ne'er,
When, in his orbit fair and high,
The morning's glowing charioteer
Rides proudly up the blushing sky;
But when the waning moon-beam sleeps
At moon-light on that lonely lea,
And nature's pensive spirit weeps
In all her dews, remember me.
When, in his orbit fair and high,
The morning's glowing charioteer
Rides proudly up the blushing sky;
But when the waning moon-beam sleeps
At moon-light on that lonely lea,
And nature's pensive spirit weeps
In all her dews, remember me.
Remember me, I pray—but not
In Flora's gay and blooming hour,
When every brake hath found its note,
And sunshine smiles in every flower;
But when the falling leaf is sear,
And withers sadly from the tree,
And o'er the ruins of the year
Cold Autumn weeps, remember me.
In Flora's gay and blooming hour,
When every brake hath found its note,
And sunshine smiles in every flower;
But when the falling leaf is sear,
And withers sadly from the tree,
And o'er the ruins of the year
Cold Autumn weeps, remember me.
Remember me—but choose not, dear,
The hour when, on the gentle lake,
The sportive wavelets, blue and clear,
Soft rippling, to the margin break;
But when the deaf'ning billows foam
In madness o'er the pathless sea,
Then let thy pilgrim fancy roam
Across them, and remember me.
The hour when, on the gentle lake,
The sportive wavelets, blue and clear,
Soft rippling, to the margin break;
But when the deaf'ning billows foam
In madness o'er the pathless sea,
251
Across them, and remember me.
Remember me—but not to join
If haply some thy friends should praise;
'Tis far too dear, that voice of thine
To echo what the stranger says.
They know us not—but shouldst thou meet
Some faithful friend of me and thee,
Softly, sometimes, to him repeat
My name, and then remember me.
If haply some thy friends should praise;
'Tis far too dear, that voice of thine
To echo what the stranger says.
They know us not—but shouldst thou meet
Some faithful friend of me and thee,
Softly, sometimes, to him repeat
My name, and then remember me.
Remember me—not, I entreat,
In scenes of festal week-day joy,
For then it were not kind or meet,
Thy thought thy pleasure should alloy;
But on the sacred, solemn day,
And, dearest, on thy bended knee,
When thou for those thou lov'st dost pray,
Sweet spirit, then remember me.
In scenes of festal week-day joy,
For then it were not kind or meet,
Thy thought thy pleasure should alloy;
But on the sacred, solemn day,
And, dearest, on thy bended knee,
When thou for those thou lov'st dost pray,
Sweet spirit, then remember me.
Remember me—but not as I
On thee forever, ever dwell,
With anxious heart and drooping eye,
And doubts 'twould grieve thee should I tell;
But in thy calm, unclouded heart,
Where dark and gloomy visions flee,
Oh there, my sister, be my part,
And kindly there remember me.
On thee forever, ever dwell,
With anxious heart and drooping eye,
And doubts 'twould grieve thee should I tell;
But in thy calm, unclouded heart,
Where dark and gloomy visions flee,
Oh there, my sister, be my part,
And kindly there remember me.
| The American common-place book of poetry | |