Let me remember you, voices of little insects, 
Weeds in the moonlight, fields that are tangled with asters, 
Let me remember, soon will the winter be on us, 
Snow-hushed and heavy. 

Over my soul murmur your mute benediction, 
While I gaze, O fields that rest after harvest, 
As those who part look long in the eyes they lean to, 
Lest they forget them.
~Sara Teasdale from “September Midnight”

The tumult and the shouting dies;
The Captains and the Kings depart:
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
~Rudyard Kipling from “Recessional”

If I were called upon to identify briefly the principal trait of the entire twentieth century, here too, I would be unable to find anything more precise and pithy than to repeat once again:
Men have forgotten God.
~Aleksandr Solzhenitzyn from his 1983 acceptance speech for the Templeton Prize

Lest I forget…

I look long in the eyes I lean to…

whether a loved one, or the mountains, or summer-weary fields,
or the face of God Himself.

I cannot risk forgetting Who must be remembered —
He is encased in my heart
like a treasured photograph,
like a precious gem,
like a benediction soothing me quiet when anxious.

It is His ultimate promise:
Neither will He forget me –
looking long in my eyes that lean in to Him.

[And the Lord answered] Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb?
Yes, they may forget, yet I will not forget you.
Isaiah 49:15