It shall not be forgotten
Of any one who sees,—
The sorrel-flow’r amid the moss,
The wind-flow’r ’mid the trees.
Though I can but remember
All flowers by her face,
That flow’r, which is my life’s perfume,
Kin to the wild-flow’r race.
It shall not be forgotten
Of any one who looks,—
The evening-star above the hills,
Its image in the brooks.
Though I can but remember
All planets by her eyes,
Those stars, which are my destiny,
Bright sisters to the skies’.
And, oh, the song that follows
The wing-beat of the bird!—
It shall not be forgotten
When once such song is heard.
Though I can but remember
All music by her words,
Her voice, which is my heart’s response,
Kin to the building bird’s.
How can they be forgotten,
The fair and fugitive,
When in all birds and stars and flowers
Love’s intimations live!