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I mourn o'er cold forgetfulness, Have I, myself, forgotten less?

I've mingled with the young and fair, Nor thought how there was laid One fair and young as any there, In silence and in shade. How could I see a sweet mouth shine With smiles, and not remember thine?

Ah! it is well we can forget, Or who could linger on Beneath a sky whose stars are set, On earth whose flowers are gone? For who could welcome loved ones near, Thinking of those once far more dear,