FORGETFULNESS.
How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? how long wilt thou hide thy face from me?—Psalm xiii. 1.
But Zion said, The Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten me.
Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.—Isaiah, xlix. 14, 15.
Behold the inexorable hour at hand!
Behold the inexorable hour forgot!
And to forget it, the chief aim of life;
Though well to ponder it is life’s chief end.
Young.
Forget me not! Forget me not!
Thou utterest, Lord, from earth or skies,
In glittering glory—rainbow dyes,
And every breeze that sheds a balm
On morning’s joy or evening’s calm,
In open glade or lonely spot,
Maintains a tongue to tell Thy power,
And whispers in Thy name and hour,
Forget me not! Forget me not!
Forget me not! Forget me not!
The record of Thy will doth say,
Revealing Thee in glory’s ray,
On Sinai’s mount with justice crowned,
Throwing Thy awful thunders round,
But most, when pitying the hard lot
Of man, Thy Son rejoiced to die
Upon the mount of Calvary,
Thy voice was heard—Forget me not!
Forget us not! Forget us not!
In that dread hour when tyrant death
Shall gripe this form and stop its breath;
Oh! in each struggling throe, that clay
Feels when the soul is wrenched away,
And it is left for earth to rot,
Look down in mercy—Lord, be nigh,
To curb the dying agony;
We are but dust—Forget us not!
William Martin.