The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
 | I, II. |
|
THE SNAKE. |
 |
| III, IV. |
| V. |
| VI, VII. |
| VIII, IX. |
| X. |
 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore |  |
339
THE SNAKE.
My love and I, the other day,
Within a myrtle arbour lay,
When near us, from a rosy bed,
A little Snake put forth its head.
Within a myrtle arbour lay,
When near us, from a rosy bed,
A little Snake put forth its head.
“See,” said the maid with thoughtful eyes—
“Yonder the fatal emblem lies!
“Who could expect such hidden harm
“Beneath the rose's smiling charm?”
“Yonder the fatal emblem lies!
“Who could expect such hidden harm
“Beneath the rose's smiling charm?”
Never did grave remark occur
Less à-propos than this from her.
Less à-propos than this from her.
I rose to kill the snake, but she,
Half-smiling, pray'd it might not be.
“No,” said the maiden—and, alas,
Her eyes spoke volumes, while she said it—
“Long as the snake is in the grass,
“One may, perhaps, have cause to dread it:
“But, when its wicked eyes appear,
“And when we know for what they wink so,
“One must be very simple, dear,
“To let it wound one—don't you think so?”
Half-smiling, pray'd it might not be.
“No,” said the maiden—and, alas,
Her eyes spoke volumes, while she said it—
“Long as the snake is in the grass,
“One may, perhaps, have cause to dread it:
340
“And when we know for what they wink so,
“One must be very simple, dear,
“To let it wound one—don't you think so?”
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | |