SHE WOULD NOT KNOW ME.
I
She would not know me, were she now to view me;
My heart was gay, when long ago she knew me;
My songs were daily tun'd to some gay measure,
And all my visions were of future pleasure.
Oh! tell her not that grief could thus o'erthrow me,
But let her pass me by, she will not know me!
II
In these sad accents, she will ne'er discover
The cheerful voice of him who was her lover;
Nor will these features, in their gloom, remind her
Of the gay smile they wore, when she was kinder.
Oh! tell her not that grief could thus o'erthrow me,
But let her pass me by, she will not know me!
III
'Twould pain her, did she note my deep dejection,
To know that she had crush'd such fond affection;
And not for all the world, shall my distresses
Chase from her heart the joy it still possesses!
Oh! tell her not that grief could thus o'erthrow me,
But let her pass me by, she will not know me!
