I sat beside the streamlet,
I watched the water flow;
As we together watch'd it,
One little year ago,
The soft rain pattered on the leaves,
The april grass was wet.
Ah! folly to remember,
'Tis wiser to forget.

The nightingales made musical
June's palace pav'd with gold;
I watch'd the rose you gave me,
Its warm red heart unfold;
But sight of rose and song of bird
Were fraught with wild regret.
'Tis madness to remember,
'Twere wisdom to forget.

I stood among the gold corn,
Alas! no more, I knew,
To gather gleaner's measure
Of the love that fell from you.
For me no gracious harvest;
Would God we ne'er had met,
For cruel as remembrance is,
'Tis harder to forget!