In Seville, when the feast was long,
And lips and lutes grew free,
At Inez feet, amid the throng,
A masquer bent his knee;
And still the burden of his song
Was “Sweet, remember me!
“Remember me in shine and shower,
In sorrow and in glee;
When summer breathes upon the flower,
When winter blasts the tree,
When there are dances in the bower
Or sails upon the sea.
“Remember me beneath far skies,
Or foreign lawn or lea;
When others worship those wild eyes
Which I no more may see,
When others wake the melodies
Of which I mar the key.
“Remember me! my heart will claim
No love, no trust, from thee;
Remember me, though doubt and blame
Linked with the record be;
Remember me,—with scorn or shame,—
But yet, remember me!”