THERE is a flower, a lovely flower, Tinged deep with Faith's unchanging hue; Pure as the ether in its hour Of loveliest and serenest blue. The streamlet's gentle side it seeks, The silent fount, the shaded grot, And sweetly to the heart it speaks, Forget-me-not, forget-me-not. II. Mild as the azure of thine eyes, Soft as the halo-beam above, In tender whispers still it sighs, Forget me not, my life, my love! There where thy last steps turned away, Wet eyes shall watch the sacred spot, And this sweet flower be heard to say, Forget! ah, no! forget-me-not! III. Yet deep its azure leaves within Is seen the blighting hue of care; And what that secret grief hath been, The drooping stem may well declare. The dew-drops on its leaves are tears, That ask, 'Am I so soon forgot?' Repeating still, amidst their fears, My life, my love! forget-me-not! OUR PUBLIC MEN. NUMBER ONE. PERSONAL TRAITS OF PRESIDENT TYLER AND HIS FAMILY. THE interest which is felt in the personal history of a distinguished man is materially increased in the person of Mr. TYLER, for and against whom so much has been said and written. And as I am no politician, but have had the opportunity of seeing a great deal of our Chief Magistrate, personally and in private, I propose to give to the readers of the KNICKERBOCKER a few personal characteristics of the President, drawn from my own knowledge and observation. They are not in themselves of any deep interest, being such as arise in the every-day occurrences of life; but they therefore the better portray _the man_, and are of much interest on that account. I remember one evening that a plain countryman from the interior of Pennsylvania called upon the President, and seemed to eye him with keen scrutiny. He was evidently a person well-to-do in the world; who owned the acres that he tilled, and had a good many broad ones; a holder of his own plough, from habits of industry rather than from necessity; and one who, evidently, had always spoken his mind without fear or favor. His plain but clean attire, and his honest, open countenance and proper bearing, struck me very forcibly, and reminded me of a remark which I once heard General Harrison make of Tecumseh, the celebrated Indian warrior, who has been called the 'Napoleon of the West.' General Harrison observed that the Indian was one of the most gentlemanly men he had ever seen. I asked him how that could be? 'Why,' he replied, 'he had self-possession and self-respect.' This old farmer had these manly qualities. After a long chat with the President, he observed: 'Well, Mr. Tyler, you are a very different man from what I took you to be.' 'How so?' asked the President, laughing.