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REMEMBER!
Remember!—'twas the last low-whispered sound
Which struck my ear, even in that parting hour;
Still my heart's tendrils, round its echoes wound,
Thrill to that recollected tone of power—
Of strange dread power o'er all my being's waste,
Whose fountains sealed, flowed chainless in the past.
Remember!—ere those thoughts and thou canst part,
Changed must thou be, my heart!
Which struck my ear, even in that parting hour;
Still my heart's tendrils, round its echoes wound,
Thrill to that recollected tone of power—
Of strange dread power o'er all my being's waste,
Whose fountains sealed, flowed chainless in the past.
Remember!—ere those thoughts and thou canst part,
Changed must thou be, my heart!
Soft—softer than the broken tremulous breathings
Of some veined, rainbowed shell's smooth-hollowed wreathings—
That last, that ever-haunting murmur, fell
Within my heart's core—fixed to brood and dwell
For ever and for ever! O, fear not
That for one lightning-moment 'tis forgot.
Remember!—ay; ere that and thou canst part,
Changed must thou be, my heart!
Of some veined, rainbowed shell's smooth-hollowed wreathings—
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Within my heart's core—fixed to brood and dwell
For ever and for ever! O, fear not
That for one lightning-moment 'tis forgot.
Remember!—ay; ere that and thou canst part,
Changed must thou be, my heart!
Methought, in my young days of fiery life,
When every thought of Spring and Hope was rife,
That the soft nightingale's deep-throbbing throat
Poured an entrancing and victorious note;
But I have heard thy voice! and now, not so—
The nightingale—the nightingale may go!
Remember!—ay; ere that and thou canst part,
Changed must thou be, my heart!
When every thought of Spring and Hope was rife,
That the soft nightingale's deep-throbbing throat
Poured an entrancing and victorious note;
But I have heard thy voice! and now, not so—
The nightingale—the nightingale may go!
Remember!—ay; ere that and thou canst part,
Changed must thou be, my heart!
We parted in the sunset's hour of rest,
When a rich silence broods along the breast;
And the soul turns, by impulse softly given,
From dreams of passion unto dreams of heaven!
Thus linked with loftiest feelings of the soul,
Those memories kindlingly and proudly roll!
Remember!—ay; ere that and thou canst part,
Changed must thou be, my heart!
When a rich silence broods along the breast;
And the soul turns, by impulse softly given,
From dreams of passion unto dreams of heaven!
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Those memories kindlingly and proudly roll!
Remember!—ay; ere that and thou canst part,
Changed must thou be, my heart!
That parting hour! through mists of after-years—
Through chequered destinies and chastening tears,
How vividly it shines!—'Tis here again!
With its dark transports and its conquering pain—
Its exquisite joy—and, ah! its exquisite wo!
Remember!—yes; till in the grave laid low!
Remember!—ay! ere that and thou canst part,
Dead must thou be, my heart!
Through chequered destinies and chastening tears,
How vividly it shines!—'Tis here again!
With its dark transports and its conquering pain—
Its exquisite joy—and, ah! its exquisite wo!
Remember!—yes; till in the grave laid low!
Remember!—ay! ere that and thou canst part,
Dead must thou be, my heart!
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