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The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore

Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes
  

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249

BEAUTY AND SONG.

Down in yon summer vale,
Where the rill flows,
Thus said a Nightingale
To his loved Rose:—
“Though rich the pleasures
“Of song's sweet measures,
“Vain were its melody,
“Rose, without thee.”
Then from the green recess
Of her night-bow'r,
Beaming with bashfulness,
Spoke the bright flow'r:—
“Though morn should lend her
“Its sunniest splendour,
“What would the Rose be,
“Unsung by thee?”

250

Thus still let Song attend
Woman's bright way;
Thus still let woman lend
Light to the lay.
Like stars, through heaven's sea,
Floating in harmony,
Beauty should glide along,
Circled by Song.