Lethe

Shall we forget?—you say to me. Who knows?

Perhaps old age will steal this memory.

For now, I stand to watch our wilted rose

And drown my crying in a salty sea.

Yet how can I forget? Will you enclose

My mind in fresh oblivion? Will you be

My river, tossing me in turbulent flows?

Will you, forgetting this, remember me?

Should I forget?—I want not to succumb:

I am but human; I gave my only heart.

This memory’s mine, and sadly I depart…

I’ll not forget, until my body’s numb.

Till Death take me—that be a long time yet—

I’ll love you still, and never we’ll forget.

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