by James S. Wallace
This poem was published in Godey's Lady's Book in the July 1841 issue on page 28. It is provided to us through the kindness of Nancy Mason, Special Collections Assistant of the library of the University of New Hampshire. This volume is located in their Milne Special Collections.
Not think of thee! There is a spell
Which binds remembrance to the past,
'Round which fond Hope will raptured dwell,
And linger fondly to the last.
Not think of thee! Oh, Friendship's bloom
Is like a flower, than shuns the light,
And only sheds its rich perfume,
When veiled in absence and the night!
Not think of thee! Nay, when the bliss
Of every former joy has passed,
I'll think of all thy tenderness,
And love thee fondly, to the last.
Not think of thee! I could as soon
Forget the home my childhood nurs'd;
I breathe no prayer—I seek no boon,
But thy dear happiness is first!
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