Nay, Let The Past Be Past, Nor Strive In Vain by Frances Anne Kemble

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Nay, let the Past be past, nor strive in vain,
From the dim backward vista of our years
To bring departed pleasures here again,
In youth’s fresh morning light and dewy tears,
And brooding golden mist let them remain,
Since in that distant time their image wears
A softer charm, like that of some fair face,
That painted long ago may still retain
Through faded tints the tender lingering grace
Of a fine spirit nothing can efface.
Since Time hath spared it, do you e’en as much,
Forbear renew’d possession’s heavy touch,
Call no past Pleasures back, but, sadly wise,
Keep them for ever pleasant Memories.

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