When the glad sun looks smiling from the sky,
Upon each shadowy glen, and sunny height,
And that you tread those well-known paths, where I
Have strayed with you, do not forget me quite.
When the warm hearth throws its bright glow around,
On many a smiling cheek, and glance of light,
And the gay laugh wakes with its silver sound
The soul of mirth—do not forget me quite.
You will not miss me: for with you remain
Hearts fond and warm, and spirits young and bright;
'Tis but one word—'farewell,' and all again
Will seem the same, yet don't forget me quite.

To ------. 'Oh! turn those eyes away from me!'
Oh! turn those eyes away from me!
Though sweet, yet fearful are their rays;
And though they beam so tenderly,
I feel, I tremble 'neath their gaze.
Oh, turn those eyes away! for though
To meet their glance I may not dare,
I know their light is on my brow,
By the warm blood that mantles there.