The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
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III, IV. |
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LOVE AND THE NOVICE. |
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VI, VII. |
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XII. |
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VIII. |
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XIV. |
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VIII, IX. |
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The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ||
303
LOVE AND THE NOVICE.
“Here we dwell, in holiest bowers,
“Where angels of light o'er our orisons bend;
“Where sighs of devotion and breathings of flowers
“To heaven in mingled odour ascend.
“Do not disturb our calm, oh Love!
“So like is thy form to the cherubs above,
“It well might deceive such hearts as ours.”
“Where angels of light o'er our orisons bend;
“Where sighs of devotion and breathings of flowers
“To heaven in mingled odour ascend.
“Do not disturb our calm, oh Love!
“So like is thy form to the cherubs above,
“It well might deceive such hearts as ours.”
Love stood near the Novice and listen'd,
And Love is no novice in taking a hint;
His laughing blue eyes soon with piety glisten'd;
His rosy wing turn'd to heaven's own tint.
“Who would have thought,” the urchin cries,
“That Love could so well, so gravely disguise
“His wandering wings, and wounding eyes?”
And Love is no novice in taking a hint;
His laughing blue eyes soon with piety glisten'd;
His rosy wing turn'd to heaven's own tint.
“Who would have thought,” the urchin cries,
“That Love could so well, so gravely disguise
“His wandering wings, and wounding eyes?”
Love now warms thee, waking and sleeping,
Young Novice, to him all thy orisons rise.
He tinges the heavenly fount with his weeping,
He brightens the censer's flame with his sighs.
Love is the Saint enshrin'd in thy breast,
And angels themselves would admit such a guest,
If he came to them cloth'd in Piety's vest.
Young Novice, to him all thy orisons rise.
304
He brightens the censer's flame with his sighs.
Love is the Saint enshrin'd in thy breast,
And angels themselves would admit such a guest,
If he came to them cloth'd in Piety's vest.
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ||