"Lest awe should dwell
And turn your frolic to fret
You shall look on my power at the helping hour
But then you shall forget!

Forget, forget!

Lest limbs be reddened and rent
I spring the trap that is set
As I loose the snare you may glimpse me there
For surely you shall forget!

Helper and healer, I cheer
Small waifs in the woodlandwet
Strays I find in it, wounds I bind in it
Bidding them all forget."

- Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows