 | English melodies |  |
195
IF THOU COULD'ST TEACH.
If thou could'st teach me to forget,
An art so dull I would not learn,
No, there's a charm in memory yet,
Which colder natures ne'er discern:
Though dark my onward path appears,
That inner charm each step beguiles,
And sweeter Memory's face in tears,
Than cold forgetfulness in smiles.
An art so dull I would not learn,
No, there's a charm in memory yet,
Which colder natures ne'er discern:
Though dark my onward path appears,
That inner charm each step beguiles,
And sweeter Memory's face in tears,
Than cold forgetfulness in smiles.
I sit and list the voices gone,
The music of affection lost,
And would not shun, nor part with one
Of all the tears, those voices cost:
I sit and think of other years,
And wander Time's neglected aisles;
And sweeter Memory's face in tears
Than cold forgetfulness in smiles.
The music of affection lost,
And would not shun, nor part with one
Of all the tears, those voices cost:
I sit and think of other years,
And wander Time's neglected aisles;
And sweeter Memory's face in tears
Than cold forgetfulness in smiles.
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