You will forget me the years are so tender--
  They bind up the wounds which we think are so deep;
This dream of our youth will fade out as the splendor
  Fades from the sky, when the sun sinks to sleep:
The clouds of forgetfulness, over and over,
  Will banish the last rosy colors away;
And th' fingers of Time will weave garlands to cover
  The scar which you think is a life-mark to-day.

You will forget me:-- will thank me for saying
  The words which you think are so pointed with pain,
Time loves a new lay; and the dirge he is playing
  Will change for you soon to a livelier strain.
I shall pass from your life, I shall pass out forever,
  And the hours we have spent, will be sunk in the past.
Youth buries its dead: grief kills seldom, or never,
  And forgetfulness covers all sorrows at last.

You will forget me; the one thing you covet
  Now, above all things will soon seem no prize:
And the heart which is not in your keeping, to prove it
  True or untrue, will lose worth in your eyes.
The one drop to-day, that you deem only wanting
  To make life a joy, will be lost in Time's stream;
You will forget; and the ghost that is haunting
  The aisles of your heart will pass out with the dream.

Shells by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Milwaukee: Hauser & Storey, 1873.

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