The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
 | I, II. |
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TO ------
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| III, IV. |
| V. |
| VI, VII. |
| VIII, IX. |
| X. |
 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore |  |
165
TO ------
[Come, take thy harp—'tis vain to muse]
Νοσει τα φιλτατα.
Euripides.
Euripides.
Come, take thy harp—'tis vain to muse
Upon the gathering ills we see;
Oh! take thy harp and let me lose
All thoughts of ill in hearing thee.
Upon the gathering ills we see;
Oh! take thy harp and let me lose
All thoughts of ill in hearing thee.
Sing to me, love!—though death were near,
Thy song could make my soul forget—
Nay, nay, in pity, dry that tear,
All may be well, be happy yet.
Thy song could make my soul forget—
Nay, nay, in pity, dry that tear,
All may be well, be happy yet.
Let me but see that snowy arm
Once more upon the dear harp lie,
And I will cease to dream of harm,
Will smile at fate, while thou art nigh.
Once more upon the dear harp lie,
And I will cease to dream of harm,
Will smile at fate, while thou art nigh.
166
Give me that strain of mournful touch,
We us'd to love long, long ago,
Before our hearts had known as much
As now, alas! they bleed to know.
We us'd to love long, long ago,
Before our hearts had known as much
As now, alas! they bleed to know.
Sweet notes! they tell of former peace,
Of all that look'd so smiling then,
Now vanish'd, lost—oh pray thee, cease,
I cannot bear those sounds again.
Of all that look'd so smiling then,
Now vanish'd, lost—oh pray thee, cease,
I cannot bear those sounds again.
Art thou, too, wretched? yes, thou art;
I see thy tears flow fast with mine—
Come, come to this devoted heart,
'Tis breaking, but it still is thine!
I see thy tears flow fast with mine—
Come, come to this devoted heart,
'Tis breaking, but it still is thine!
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | |