Wood River times. [volume] (Hailey, Idaho) 1882-1915, 1883-01-24
"FURGET.ME-NOT."

Take 1t. this little flower; take it and think of me
Think, IN the hour of loneliness. OF tue one vino
gave IL thee.
Place II within thy bosom. let it never be forgot
But let it whisper OFT to thee the Words Forget.
me-not.'
Think of IT in the joyous throng, when all around
il bright
Think of 1t when I'm far away and severed from
Think Of q j. whether far or near whatever be thy
Oh, may 1t speak to thee the words. Forget.
me-not."
What depth of meaning these
three little words contain! In the en-
tire lexicon there is no combination of
words after which the heart yca,ns with
more longing than it does after these
three little ones. When the sad hour
OF parting arrives, after all the sad
and pitiful words have been en-
changed, last, but not least, come
"Forget oh, how dcplor-
ingly sad to think we are now scpa-
rated from friends for whom we felt
such an esteem: that now, perhaps,
several degrees of latitude lie between
us and the cold bond OF distance is
tightening around us; still, in our
deepest Affections we cannot forget
them. flushed is the musical, low
ripping laugh OF our darling; no
more we hear the pattcr of liitle feet
in the hallway. Where the roses and
lilacs bloSsomcd is whitencd with
SNOW, yet we know as we think and
gaze that our dear ones are happy ON
high, and the remembrance at once
dispels the deep-felt sorrow; and still,
though memory brings us sorrow, we
would not forget our cherished ones.
So many things serve to remind us Of
them! Perhaps some old lullaby or
plaything has brought back to our
memory the thoughts Of our dear
ones. The dying leaves, as they are
blown to and fro by the merciless
wind, seem to sing in their solemn
tune, "Forget- mc-not. Though l
die by the frosty touch of winter. vet
spring will come again and bring as
green grass and fragrant flowers"
Nes, the remembrance we owe our
dead is such that we cannot bear to
separate it from our memory; It's
duty we feel obi gcd to fulfill. 1t is
hard to see our fondc>t and dearest
snatched from us ust when they were
becoming our sole hope; it almost
IDS our hearts in twain. Bat. still.
we would not for one moment deprive
them of the solemn duty of remem-
brance we owe, and this comes from
the fact that perhaps when our dar-
llngs were about to be taken from us,
when the chill death damp was still
on their foreheads, ,hese three little
words were uttered, hopin. to be re-
membered when the summer flowers
would fade and die, the chill WINDS of
autumn shifting the leaves about and
the cold, beautiful SNOW would lie
upon their grave, they, in Their silent
resting place, would heed them not.
The song of the birds, the rust,ing Of
the leaves, nothing would all this sig
Nifty to them; but still they wish to be
remembered when they have left this
bitter world.
The sunny beams of our golden
days, now sleeping in the oblivion of
night, blend to throw brilliant LIGHT
ever our youthful fancies, making us
live again early scenes long since de.
parted. Memory, partial to JOY, with
the lamp of truth is quick to dispel
from their lonely rcsting-place the
dark days of youth and show only the
bright side of vanished DAYS. The
great deeds of our heroes cry out to
us for remembrance, and MANY ones
name will descend to posterity loaded
W.T." 'aureIs, never through the com.
ing ages to be forgotten.
LONELY PINE.