Oh! how tenacious memory loves to dwell
On every scene where I have stray’d with thee!
’Tis she distinguishes each leafy tree,
Each grassy lane — for thy sake lov’d so well!
More dear to me she makes the sea-beat shore —
She tells how after I’ve been with thee there:
And when I turn the page to soothe my care,
Still she reminds whence thou wert wont to quote.
And to my soul she trills each tuneful note,
And every accent I shall hear no more!
How have I blest her, when, with magic pow’r,
To past delight she’s been my guiding friend —
To what deep anguish does her office tend
When I contrast it with the present hour!