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1874–1936

ROSEMARY

Harry Graham

‘ E'er August be turned to September, Nor Summer to Autumn as yet, My darling, you Autumn remember What Summer so sure to forget.

‘ Though age may extinguish the ember That glowed in our hearts when we met, Remember, my love, to remember, And I will forget to forget.

‘ Who knows but the winds of December May drift us asunder, my pet; And if I forget to remember, Remember, my sweet, to forget!

‘ My beauty will fade, as the posy You gave me that night on the stairs; My lips will not always be rosy, My head cannot give itself‘ airs.

‘ Alas! as we both become older, Existence draws nigh to a close; So, until I've forgotten your shoulder, You must not remember my nose.

‘ Our days were not all sunny weather; Even so we have nought to regret,— Ah! let us remember together, Until we forget to forget!’

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ROSEMARY · Harry Graham · Poetry Cove