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