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The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore

Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes
  

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Soon as the imagined dream went by,
Uprose the nymph, with anxious eye
Turn'd to the clouds, as though some boon
She waited from that sun-bright dome,
And marvell'd that it came not soon
As her young thoughts would have it come.

71

But joy is in her glance!—the wing
Of a white bird is seen above;
And oh, if round his neck he bring
The long-wish'd tidings from her love,
Not half so precious in her eyes
Ev'n that high-omen'd bird would be,
Who dooms the brow o'er which he flies
To wear a crown of Royalty.
 

The Huma.