Tho' lost to sight, to mem'ry dear

Thou ever wilt remain;

One only hope my heart can cheer,—

The hope to meet again.

Oh fondly on the past I dwell,

And oft recall those hours

When, wand'ring down the shady dell,

We gathered the wild-flowers.

Yes, life then seem'd one pure delight,

Tho' now each spot looks drear;

Yet tho' thy smile be lost to sight,

To mem'ry thou art dear.

Oft in the tranquil hour of night,

When stars illume the sky,

I gaze upon each orb of light,

And wish that thou wert by.

I think upon that happy time,

That time so fondly lov'd,

When last we heard the sweet bells chime,

As thro' the fields we rov'd.

Yes, life then seem'd one pure delight,

Tho' now each spot looks drear;

Yet tho' thy smile be lost to sight,

To mem'ry thou art dear.

George Linley (1798-1865): Song.