Poems (Osgood)/A Song (I cannot forget him)

by Frances Sargent Osgood

For works with similar titles, see A Song.

SONG.

I cannot forget him!
 I've lock'd up my soul;
But not till his image
 Deep, deep in it stole.

I cannot forget him!
 The Future can cast
No flower before me
 So sweet as the Past.

I turn to my books;
 But his voice rich and rare,
Is blent with the genius
 That speaks to me there.

I tune my wild lyre,
 But I think of the praise,
Too precious, too dear,
 Which he lent to my lays!

I cannot forget him!
 I try to be gay
To quell the wild sorrow
 That rises alway;

But wilder and darker
 It swells, as I try;
If Heaven could forget him,
 So never can I!

I cannot forget him!
 I loved him too well!
His smile was endearment,
 His whisper a spell.

I fly from his presence;
 Alas! it is vain;
I see him—I hear him—
 He's with me again!

He haunts me forever;
 I worship him yet;
Oh! idle endeavor!
 I cannot forget!