Forget? No, Never!
There are things we'll not remember,
And much will be forgot,
As in the bleak December
When our coffee was not hot;
When the butter was much younger,
When the bread was sour and dry;
When are felt the pangs of hunger,
With regrets and many a sigh.
How the memory used to vex us
As 'twould o'er our senses steal;
How we wished they might "annex" us,
So we'd get one good square meal.
Other things may be forgot
In this busy, hustling age,