Think of me, when first the sun
Paints with gold the Eastern sky,
And when his daily course has run,
Remember me, and think me nigh.
Morn will bring to mind our meetings,
Cheerful looks and spirits light,
Eve, our late protracted greetings,
As we whispered a "Good night."
And when, in sacred hour of prayer,
Blessings are asked on bended knee,
Give, of that hour, sufficient share,
To ask a blessing too, on me.
Then, though to the world be given,
All that you may, of mirth and glee,
I shall be sure that next to Heaven,
And Heavenly things, you think of me.