poembayley

Oh, No! We Never Mention Him.

Oh no! we never mention him, his name is never heard;
My lips are now forbid to speak that once familiar word:
From sport to sport they hurry me, to banish my regret;
And when they win a smile from me they think that I forget.

They bid me seek a change of scene the charms that others see;
But were I in a foreign land, they'd find no change in me.
'Tis true that I behold no more the valley where we met,
I do not see the hawthorn-tree but how can I forget?

For oh! There are so many things recall the past to me,-
The breeze upon the sunny hills, the billows of the sea;
The rosy tint that decks the sky before the sun is set;-
Ay, every leaf I look upon forbids me to forget,

They tell me he is happy now, the gayest of the gay;
They hint that he forgets me too,- but I heed not what they say:
Perhaps like me he struggles with each feeling of regret;
But if he loves as I have loved, he never can forget.