In cups with roses bound;
O hail me at no festive shrine,
In mirth and music's sound.
Or if you pledge me, let it be
When none are by to hear,
And in the wine you drink to me,
For me let fall a tear.

Forbear to breathe in pleasure's hall,
A name you should forget;
Lest echo's faintest whisper fall
On her who loves thee yet.
Or if you name me, let it be
When none are by to hear;
And as my name is sigh'd by thee,
For me let fall a tear.

O think not when the harp shall sound
The notes we lov'd again,
And gentle voices breathe around,
I mingle in the strain.
Oh! only think you hear me when
The night breeze whispers near;
In hours of thought, and quiet, then
For me let fall a tear.

Seek me not in the mazy dance,
Nor let your fancy trace
Resemblance in a timid glance;
Or distant form and face.