One's drifting soul, in Life's ebb and flow,
Would fain be faithful to some things yet,
But youth is calling, the sun is low,
Come to love, come to forget!
From shade of sorrow or stress of strife,
Here, in the desert, how far one seems.
Oh, follow your fancy, lend your life
To the golden guidance of your dreams!
And come to me: you are free to go
Ere ever the stars of morning set;—
The fires of sunset are burning low,
Come to love, come to forget!
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