THOU CANST NOT FORGET ME.
Thou canst not forget me, for memory will fling
Her light o'er oblivion's dark sea;
And wherever thou roamest, a something will cling
To thy bosom, that whispers of me;
Though the chords of thy spirit I now may not sweep,
Of my touch they'll retain a soft thrill,
Like the low, under-tone of the mournful-voiced deep,
When the wind that hath swept it is still.
Her light o'er oblivion's dark sea;
And wherever thou roamest, a something will cling
To thy bosom, that whispers of me;
Though the chords of thy spirit I now may not sweep,
Of my touch they'll retain a soft thrill,
Like the low, under-tone of the mournful-voiced deep,
When the wind that hath swept it is still.
The love that is kept in the beauty of trust,
Cannot pass like the foam from the seas,
Or a mark that the finger hath traced in the dust,
When 't is swept by the breath of the breeze;
They tell me, my love, thou wilt calmly resign,
Yet I know, e'en while listening to them,
Thou wilt sigh for the heart, that was linked unto thine,
As a rose-bud is linked to its stem.
Cannot pass like the foam from the seas,
Or a mark that the finger hath traced in the dust,
When 't is swept by the breath of the breeze;
They tell me, my love, thou wilt calmly resign,
Yet I know, e'en while listening to them,
Thou wilt sigh for the heart, that was linked unto thine,
As a rose-bud is linked to its stem.
Thou canst not forget me, too long thou hast flung,
Thy spirit's soft pinion o'er mine;
Too deep was the promise that round my lips clung,
As they softly responded to thine:
Thy spirit's soft pinion o'er mine;
Too deep was the promise that round my lips clung,
As they softly responded to thine:
