1   Remind me not, remind me not,      Of those beloved, those vanish’d hours,         When all my soul was given to thee;   Hours that may never be forgot,      Till Time unnerves our vital powers,         And thou and I shall cease to be. 2   Can I forget—canst thou forget,      When playing with thy golden hair,         How quick thy fluttering heart did move?   Oh! by my soul, I see thee yet,      With eyes so languid, breast so fair,         And lips, though silent, breathing love. 3   When thus reclining on my breast,      Those eyes threw back a glance so sweet,         As half reproach’d yet rais’d desire,   And still we near and nearer prest,      And still our glowing lips would meet,         As if in kisses to expire. 4   And then those pensive eyes would close,      And bid their lids each other seek,         Veiling the azure orbs below;   While their long lashes’ darken’d gloss      Seem’d stealing o’er thy brilliant cheek,         Like raven’s plumage smooth’d on snow. 5   I dreamt last night our love return’d,      And, sooth to say, that very dream         Was sweeter in its phantasy,   Than if for other hearts I burn’d,      For eyes that ne’er like thine could beam         In Rapture’s wild reality. 6   Then tell me not, remind me not,      Of hours which, though for ever gone,         Can still a pleasing dream restore,   Till Thou and I shall be forgot,      And senseless, as the mouldering stone         Which tells that we shall be no more.