The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
I, II. |
III, IV. |
V. |
VI, VII. |
VIII, IX. |
X. |
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ||
415
COME, PLAY ME THAT SIMPLE AIR AGAIN.
A BALLAD.
Come, play me that simple air again,
I us'd so to love, in life's young day,
And bring, if thou canst, the dreams that then
Were waken'd by that sweet lay.
The tender gloom its strain
Shed o'er the heart and brow,
Grief's shadow, without its pain—
Say where, where is it now?
But play me the well-known air once more,
For thoughts of youth still haunt its strain,
Like dreams of some far, fairy shore
We never shall see again.
I us'd so to love, in life's young day,
And bring, if thou canst, the dreams that then
Were waken'd by that sweet lay.
The tender gloom its strain
Shed o'er the heart and brow,
Grief's shadow, without its pain—
Say where, where is it now?
But play me the well-known air once more,
For thoughts of youth still haunt its strain,
Like dreams of some far, fairy shore
We never shall see again.
Sweet air, how every note brings back
Some sunny hope, some day-dream bright,
That, shining o'er life's early track,
Fill'd ev'n its tears with light.
The new-found life that came
With love's first echo'd vow;—
The fear, the bliss, the shame—
Ah—where, where are they now?
But, still the same lov'd notes prolong,
For sweet 'twere thus, to that old lay,
In dreams of youth and love and song,
To breathe life's hour away.
Some sunny hope, some day-dream bright,
That, shining o'er life's early track,
Fill'd ev'n its tears with light.
416
With love's first echo'd vow;—
The fear, the bliss, the shame—
Ah—where, where are they now?
But, still the same lov'd notes prolong,
For sweet 'twere thus, to that old lay,
In dreams of youth and love and song,
To breathe life's hour away.
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ||