Felicia Hemans

“ From the rock and the river is passing away;
When the air with a deep'ning hush is fraught,
And the heart grows burdened with tender thought;
Then let it be!
When will ye think of me, kind friends?
When will ye think of me?
—When the rose of the rich midsummer-time
Is filled with the hues of its glorious prime;
When ye gather its bloom, as in bright hours fled,
From the walks where my footsteps no more may tread ”