The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
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The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ||
SONG.
Calm as, beneath its mother's eyes,
In sleep the smiling infant lies,
So, watch'd by all the stars of night,
Yon landscape sleeps in light.
And while the night-breeze dies away,
Like relics of some faded strain,
Loved voices, lost for many a day,
Seem whispering round again.
Oh youth! oh love! ye dreams, that shed
Such glory once—where are ye fled?
In sleep the smiling infant lies,
So, watch'd by all the stars of night,
Yon landscape sleeps in light.
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Like relics of some faded strain,
Loved voices, lost for many a day,
Seem whispering round again.
Oh youth! oh love! ye dreams, that shed
Such glory once—where are ye fled?
Pure ray of light that, down the sky,
Art pointing, like an angel's wand,
As if to guide to realms that lie
In that bright sea beyond:
Who knows but, in some brighter deep
Than even that tranquil, moon-lit main,
Some land may lie, where those who weep
Shall wake to smile again!
Art pointing, like an angel's wand,
As if to guide to realms that lie
In that bright sea beyond:
Who knows but, in some brighter deep
Than even that tranquil, moon-lit main,
Some land may lie, where those who weep
Shall wake to smile again!
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ||