Wed 3 Oct 2012
Pure and deep
Posted by PJ under memories, quote of the day
[2] Comments
Random quote of the day:
“Friends depart, and memory takes them
To her caverns, pure and deep.”
—Thomas Haynes Bayly, “Teach Me To Forget,†Songs and Ballads, Grave and Gay, published posthumously, 1844
You can read the entire poem behind the cut.
Disclaimer:Â The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Siegfried and Roy, Leonard Maltin, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.
TEACH. OH TEACH ME TO FORGET.
by Thomas Haynes Bayly
Friends depart, and memory takes them
To her caverns pure and deep;
And a forced smile only wakes them
From the shadows where they sleep.
Who shall school the heart’s affection?
Who shall banish it’s regret?
If you blame my deep dejection,
Teach, oh! teach me, to forget!
Bear me not to festive bowers,
‘Twas with them I sat there last!
Weave me not spring’s early flowers,
They’ll remind me of the past.
Music seems like mournful wailing,
In the halls where we have met;
Mirth’s gay call is unavailing,
Teach, oh! teach me to forget!
One who hopelessly remembers,
Cannot bear a dawning light;
He would rather watch the embers
Of a love that once was bright.
Who shall school the heart’s affection?
Who shall banish its regret?
If you blame my deep dejection,
Teach, oh! teach me to forget!
Nice, Pam! I’m not familiar with Bayly’s work, but I’ll rectify that, now. This poem reminds me of a work by one of Bayly’s contemporaries:
The time I’ve lost in wooing,
In watching and pursuing
The light that lies
In woman’s eyes,
Has been my heart’s undoing.
Tho’ Wisdom oft has sought me,
I scorn’d the lore she brought me,
My only books
Were women’s looks,
And folly’s all they taught me.
Her smile when Beauty granted,
I hung with gaze enchanted,
Like him the Sprite
Whom maids by night
Oft meet in glen that’s haunted.
Like him, too, Beauty won me;
But when the spell was on me,
If once their ray
Was turn’d away,
O! winds could not outrun me.
And are those follies going?
And is my proud heart growing
Too cold or wise
For brillant eyes
Again to set it glowing?
No — vain, alas! th’ endeavour
From bonds so sweet to sever:
Poor Wisdom’s chance
Against a glance
Is now as weak as ever.
— Thomas Moore
Glad you enjoyed it! And thanks for sharing that very nice poem. I had to search hard for Bayly, but Google Books finally provided me with what I needed.