The Babe, and the Forget-Me-Not.

A babe, who like the opening bud Grew fairer day by day, Made friendship with the loving flowers Amid his infant play; And though full many a gorgeous plant Display'd its colours bright, Yet with the meek Forget-me-not He took his chief delight. From mantel-vase, or rich bouquet, He cull'd his favourite gem, Well pleas'd its lowly lips to kiss, And gently clasp its stem. So, when to dreamless rest he sank, For soon he was to fade, That darling friend, Forget-me-not, Was on his bosom laid; And when, beside the mother's couch, Who weepeth for his sake, Some vision of his heavenly joy Doth midnight darkness break, He cometh with a cherub smile In garments of the bless'd, And weareth a Forget-me-not Upon his sinless breast.