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No, never shall my soul forget
The friends I found so cordial-hearted;
Dear, dear shall be the day we met,
And dear shall be the night we parted.

Oh! if regret, however sweet,
Must with the lapse of time decay:
Yet still, when thus in mirth you meet,
Fill high to him that's far away.

Long be the flame of memory found
Alive within your social glass;
Let that be still the magic round
O'er which oblivion dares not pass.

- Thomas Moore

kleisse kleisse 22-25, F Nov 17, 2008

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