I shall forget you presently, my dear
So make the most of this, your little day
Your little month, your little half a year
Ere I forget, or die, or move away
And we are done forever; by and by
I shall forget you, as I said, but now
If you entreat me with your loveliest lie
I will protest you with my favorite vow
I would indeed that love were longer-lived
And vows were not so brittle as they are
But so it is, and nature has contrived
To struggle on without a break thus far, --
Whеther or not we find what we arе seeking
Is idle, biologically speaking