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

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For works with similar titles, see A Song.
4444876Poems — A SongFrances Sargent Osgood
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!