The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
 | I, II. |
| III, IV. |
 | V. |
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THE PRETTY ROSE TREE. |
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| VI, VII. |
| VIII, IX. |
| X. |
 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore |  |
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THE PRETTY ROSE TREE.
Being weary of love,
I flew to the grove,
And chose me a tree of the fairest;
Saying, “Pretty Rose-tree,
“Thou my mistress shalt be,
“And I'll worship each bud thou bearest.
“For the hearts of this world are hollow,
“And fickle the smiles we follow;
“And 'tis sweet, when all
“Their witch'ries pall
“To have a pure love to fly to:
“So, my pretty Rose-tree,
“Thou my mistress shalt be,
“And the only one now I shall sigh to.”
I flew to the grove,
And chose me a tree of the fairest;
Saying, “Pretty Rose-tree,
“Thou my mistress shalt be,
“And I'll worship each bud thou bearest.
“For the hearts of this world are hollow,
“And fickle the smiles we follow;
“And 'tis sweet, when all
“Their witch'ries pall
“To have a pure love to fly to:
“So, my pretty Rose-tree,
“Thou my mistress shalt be,
“And the only one now I shall sigh to.”
When the beautiful hue
Of thy cheek through the dew
Of morning is bashfully peeping,
“Sweet tears,” I shall say
(As I brush them away),
“At least there's no art in this weeping.”
Although thou shouldst die to-morrow,
'Twill not be from pain or sorrow;
And the thorns of thy stem
Are not like them
With which men wound each other:
So my pretty Rose-tree,
Thou my mistress shalt be,
And I'll ne'er again sigh to another.
Of thy cheek through the dew
Of morning is bashfully peeping,
151
(As I brush them away),
“At least there's no art in this weeping.”
Although thou shouldst die to-morrow,
'Twill not be from pain or sorrow;
And the thorns of thy stem
Are not like them
With which men wound each other:
So my pretty Rose-tree,
Thou my mistress shalt be,
And I'll ne'er again sigh to another.
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | |