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The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore

Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes
  

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176

LOVE THEE?

Love thee?—so well, so tenderly
Thou'rt loved, adored by me,
Fame, fortune, wealth, and liberty,
Were worthless without thee.
Though brimm'd with blessings, pure and rare,
Life's cup before me lay,
Unless thy love were mingled there,
I'd spurn the draught away.
Love thee?—so well, so tenderly
Thou'rt loved, adored by me,
Fame, fortune, wealth, and liberty,
Are worthless without thee.
Without thy smile, the monarch's lot
To me were dark and lone,
While, with it, ev'n the humblest cot
Were brighter than his throne.

177

Those worlds, for which the conqueror sighs,
For me would have no charms;
My only world thy gentle eyes—
My throne thy circling arms!
Oh, yes, so well, so tenderly
Thou'rt loved, adored by me,
Whole realms of light and liberty
Were worthless without thee.