The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
 | I, II. |
| III, IV. |
 | V. |
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THE WORLD WAS HUSH'D. |
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| VI, VII. |
| VIII, IX. |
| X. |
 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore |  |
242
THE WORLD WAS HUSH'D.
The world was hush'd, the moon above
Sail'd through ether slowly,
When, near the casement of my love,
Thus I whisper'd lowly,—
“Awake, awake, how canst thou sleep?
“The field I seek to-morrow
“Is one where man hath fame to reap,
“And woman gleans but sorrow.”
Sail'd through ether slowly,
When, near the casement of my love,
Thus I whisper'd lowly,—
“Awake, awake, how canst thou sleep?
“The field I seek to-morrow
“Is one where man hath fame to reap,
“And woman gleans but sorrow.”
“Let battle's field be what it may,”
Thus spoke a voice replying,
“Think not thy love, while thou'rt away,
“Will here sit idly sighing.
“No—woman's soul, if not for fame,
“For love can brave all danger!”
Then forth from out the casement came
A plumed and armed stranger.
Thus spoke a voice replying,
“Think not thy love, while thou'rt away,
“Will here sit idly sighing.
“No—woman's soul, if not for fame,
“For love can brave all danger!”
Then forth from out the casement came
A plumed and armed stranger.
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A stranger? No; 'twas she, the maid,
Herself before me beaming,
With casque array'd, and falchion blade
Beneath her girdle gleaming!
Close side by side, in freedom's fight,
That blessed morning found us;
In Vict'ry's light we stood ere night,
And Love, the morrow, crown'd us!
Herself before me beaming,
With casque array'd, and falchion blade
Beneath her girdle gleaming!
Close side by side, in freedom's fight,
That blessed morning found us;
In Vict'ry's light we stood ere night,
And Love, the morrow, crown'd us!
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | |