The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
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LOVE AND REASON. |
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 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore |  |
115
LOVE AND REASON.
“Quand l'homme commence à raisonner, il cesse de sentir.”
J. J. Rousseau.
'Twas in the summer time so sweet,
When hearts and flowers are both in season,
That—who, of all the world, should meet,
One early dawn, but Love and Reason!
When hearts and flowers are both in season,
That—who, of all the world, should meet,
One early dawn, but Love and Reason!
Love told his dream of yesternight,
While Reason talked about the weather;
The morn, in sooth, was fair and bright,
And on they took their way together.
While Reason talked about the weather;
The morn, in sooth, was fair and bright,
And on they took their way together.
The boy in many a gambol flew,
While Reason, like a Juno, stalk'd,
And from her portly figure threw
A lengthen'd shadow, as she walk'd.
While Reason, like a Juno, stalk'd,
And from her portly figure threw
A lengthen'd shadow, as she walk'd.
116
No wonder Love, as on they pass'd,
Should find that sunny morning chill,
For still the shadow Reason cast
Fell o'er the boy, and cool'd him still.
Should find that sunny morning chill,
For still the shadow Reason cast
Fell o'er the boy, and cool'd him still.
In vain he tried his wings to warm,
Or find a pathway not so dim,
For still the maid's gigantic form
Would stalk between the sun and him.
Or find a pathway not so dim,
For still the maid's gigantic form
Would stalk between the sun and him.
“This must not be,” said little Love—
“The sun was made for more than you.”
So, turning through a myrtle grove,
He bid the portly nymph adieu.
“The sun was made for more than you.”
So, turning through a myrtle grove,
He bid the portly nymph adieu.
Now gaily roves the laughing boy
O'er many a mead, by many a stream;
In every breeze inhaling joy,
And drinking bliss in every beam.
O'er many a mead, by many a stream;
In every breeze inhaling joy,
And drinking bliss in every beam.
From all the gardens, all the bowers,
He cull'd the many sweets they shaded,
And ate the fruits and smell'd the flowers,
Till taste was gone and odour faded.
He cull'd the many sweets they shaded,
And ate the fruits and smell'd the flowers,
Till taste was gone and odour faded.
117
But now the sun, in pomp of noon,
Look'd blazing o'er the sultry plains;
Alas! the boy grew languid soon,
And fever thrill'd through all his veins.
Look'd blazing o'er the sultry plains;
Alas! the boy grew languid soon,
And fever thrill'd through all his veins.
The dew forsook his baby brow,
No more with healthy bloom he smil'd—
Oh! where was tranquil Reason now,
To cast her shadow o'er the child?
No more with healthy bloom he smil'd—
Oh! where was tranquil Reason now,
To cast her shadow o'er the child?
Beneath a green and aged palm,
His foot at length for shelter turning,
He saw the nymph reclining calm,
With brow as cool as his was burning.
His foot at length for shelter turning,
He saw the nymph reclining calm,
With brow as cool as his was burning.
“Oh! take me to that bosom cold,”
In murmurs at her feet he said;
And Reason op'd her garment's fold,
And flung it round his fever'd head.
In murmurs at her feet he said;
And Reason op'd her garment's fold,
And flung it round his fever'd head.
He felt her bosom's icy touch,
And soon it lull'd his pulse to rest;
For, ah! the chill was quite too much,
And Love expir'd on Reason's breast!
And soon it lull'd his pulse to rest;
For, ah! the chill was quite too much,
And Love expir'd on Reason's breast!
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | |