The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
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WHEN THOU ART NIGH. |
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The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ||
251
WHEN THOU ART NIGH.
When thou art nigh, it seems
A new creation round;
The sun hath fairer beams,
The lute a softer sound.
Though thee alone I see,
And hear alone thy sigh,
'Tis light, 'tis song to me,
'Tis all—when thou art nigh.
A new creation round;
The sun hath fairer beams,
The lute a softer sound.
Though thee alone I see,
And hear alone thy sigh,
'Tis light, 'tis song to me,
'Tis all—when thou art nigh.
When thou art nigh, no thought
Of grief comes o'er my heart;
I only think—could aught
But joy be where thou art?
Life seems a waste of breath,
When far from thee I sigh;
And death—ay, even death
Were sweet, if thou wert nigh.
Of grief comes o'er my heart;
I only think—could aught
But joy be where thou art?
Life seems a waste of breath,
When far from thee I sigh;
And death—ay, even death
Were sweet, if thou wert nigh.
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ||