Poems (Welby)/Thou Canst Not Forget Me

by Amelia Welby

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.

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.

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:
In the hush of the twilight, beneath the blue skies
 My presence will mantle thy soul,
And a feeling of softness will rush to thine eyes,
 Too deep for thy manhood's control.

Thou may'st roam to thine own isle of beauty and fame,
 Far, far from the land of the free;
Yet, each wind, that floats round thee, will murmur the name,
 That is softer than music to thee;
And when round thee darkly misfortunes shall crowd,
 Thou 'It think, like the beautiful form
Of the rainbow, that arches the thick tempest-cloud,
 My love would have brightened the storm.

Thou canst not forget me—the passion, that dwelt
 In the depth of thy soul, could not die,
With the memory of all, thou hast murmured and felt,
 In thy bosom 't will slumbering lie;
Thou may'st turn to another, and wish to forget,
 But the wish will not bring thee repose,
For ah! thou wilt find that the thorn of regret
 Will be linked with the sweets of the rose.