She murmured "good-night," in a tremulous tone. White, intense, through the soft golden mist which the wine Had cast over his vision, he saw her face shine. Her low lidded eyes held a lion-like glow. You have seen sudden storms lash the ocean? You know How the cyclone, unheralded, rises in wrath, And leaves devastation and death in its path? So swift, sudden passion may rise in its power, And ruin and blight a whole life in an hour. Two unanchored souls in its maelstrom were whirled, Drawn down by love's undertow, lost to the world. The dark, solemn billows of night shut them in. Like corpses afloat on the ocean of sin They must seem to their true, better selves, when again The tide drifts them back to the notice of men. 

 

  Forget me, dear; forget and cease to love me, I am not worth one memory, kind or true, Let silent, pale Oblivion spread above me Her winding sheet, for I am dead to you. Forget, forget.  

I am not worth one memory, kind or true,

Her winding sheet, for I am dead to you.

Forget, forget.

  Sin has resumed its interrupted story; I am enslaved, who dreamed of being free. Say for my soul, in life's dark purgatory, One little prayer, then cease to think of me. Forget, forget.  

I am enslaved, who dreamed of being free.

One little prayer, then cease to think of me.

Forget, forget.

  I ask you not to pity or to pardon; I ask you to forget me. Tear my name From out your heart; the wound will heal and harden. Death does not dig so deep a grave as shame. Forget, forget.  

I ask you to forget me. Tear my name

Death does not dig so deep a grave as shame.

Forget, forget.

 

 Prev. P 40/69 next