Recollection

Haydn, Joseph

The season comes when first we met,

But you return no more.

Why cannot I the days forget,

Which time can ne'er restore?

O days too fair, too bright to last,

Are you indeed forever past?

The fleeting shadows of delight

In memory I trace;

In fancy stop their rapid flight

And all the past replace.

But ah! I wake to endless woes,

And tears the fading visions close.