Song Memory, hither come, And tune your merry notes; And, while upon the wind, Your music floats, I`ll pore upon the stream, Where sighing lovers dream, And fish for fancies as they pass Within the watery glass. I`ll drink of the clear stream, And hear the linnet\s song; And there I`ll lie and dream The day along: And, when night comes, I`ll go To places fit for woe; Walking along the darken`d valley, With silent Melancholy.