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 |  |
232
WHEN ABROAD IN THE WORLD.
When abroad in the world thou appearest,
And the young and the lovely are there,
To my heart while of all thou'rt the dearest,
To my eyes thou'rt of all the most fair.
They pass, one by one,
Like waves of the sea,
That say to the Sun,
“See, how fair we can be.”
But where's the light like thine,
In sun or shade to shine?
No—no, 'mong them all, there is nothing like thee,
Nothing like thee.
And the young and the lovely are there,
To my heart while of all thou'rt the dearest,
To my eyes thou'rt of all the most fair.
They pass, one by one,
Like waves of the sea,
That say to the Sun,
“See, how fair we can be.”
But where's the light like thine,
In sun or shade to shine?
No—no, 'mong them all, there is nothing like thee,
Nothing like thee.
Oft, of old, without farewell or warning,
Beauty's self used to steal from the skies;
Fling a mist round her head, some fine morning,
And post down to earth in disguise;
But, no matter what shroud
Around her might be,
Men peep'd through the cloud,
And whisper'd, “'Tis She.”
So thou, where thousands are,
Shin'st forth the only star,—
Yes, yes, 'mong them all, there is nothing like thee,
Nothing like thee.
Beauty's self used to steal from the skies;
Fling a mist round her head, some fine morning,
And post down to earth in disguise;
233
Around her might be,
Men peep'd through the cloud,
And whisper'd, “'Tis She.”
So thou, where thousands are,
Shin'st forth the only star,—
Yes, yes, 'mong them all, there is nothing like thee,
Nothing like thee.
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | |