The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Part 85

Breathe on, breathe on, thou languid strain, Henceforth be all my own; Tho' thou art oft so full of pain Few hearts can bear thy tone.

Yet oft thou'rt sweet, as if the sigh, The breath that Pleasure's wings Gave out, when last they wantoned by.

Were still upon thy strings.

OH, NO--NOT EVEN WHEN FIRST WE LOVED.

(CASHMERIAN AIR.)

Oh, no--not even when first we loved, Wert thou as dear as now thou art; Thy beauty then my senses moved, But now thy virtues bind my heart.

What was but Pa.s.sion's sigh before, Has since been turned to Reason's vow; And, though I then might love thee _more_, Trust me, I love thee _better_ now.

Altho' my heart in earlier youth Might kindle with more wild desire, Believe me, it has gained in truth Much more than it has lost in fire.

The flame now warms my inmost core, That then but sparkled o'er my brow, And, though I seemed to love thee more, Yet, oh, I love thee better now.

PEACE BE AROUND THEE.

(SCOTCH AIR.)

Peace be around thee, wherever thou rov'st; May life be for thee one summer's day, And all that thou wishest and all that thou lov'st Come smiling around thy sunny way!

If sorrow e'er this calm should break, May even thy tears pa.s.s off so lightly, Like spring-showers, they'll only make The smiles, that follow shine more brightly.

May Time who sheds his blight o'er all And daily dooms some joy to death O'er thee let years so gently fall, They shall not crush one flower beneath.

As half in shade and half in sun This world along its path advances.

May that side the sun's upon Be all that e'er shall meet thy glances!

COMMON SENSE AND GENIUS.

(FRENCH AIR.)

While I touch the string, Wreathe my brows with laurel, For the tale I sing Has, for once, a moral.

Common Sense, one night, Tho' not used to gambols, Went out by moonlight, With Genius, on his rambles.

While I touch the string, etc.

Common Sense went on, Many wise things saying; While the light that shone Soon set Genius straying.

_One_ his eye ne'er raised From the path before him; T'_other_ idly gazed On each night-cloud o'er him.

While I touch the string, etc.

So they came, at last, To a shady river; Common Sense soon past, Safe, as he doth ever; While the boy, whose look Was in Heaven that minute.

Never saw the brook, But tumbled headlong in it!

While I touch the string, etc.

How the Wise One smiled, When safe o'er the torrent, At that youth, so wild, Dripping from the current!

Sense went home to bed; Genius, left to shiver On the bank, 'tis said, Died of that cold river!

While I touch the string, etc.

THEN, FARE THEE WELL.

(OLD ENGLISH AIR.)

Then, fare thee well, my own dear love, This world has now for us No greater grief, no pain above The pain of parting thus, Dear love!

The pain of parting thus.

Had we but known, since first we met, Some few short hours of bliss, We might, in numbering them, forget The deep, deep pain of this, Dear love!

The deep, deep pain of this.

But no, alas, we've never seen One glimpse of pleasure's ray, But still there came some cloud between, And chased it all away, Dear love!

And chased it all away.

Yet, even could those sad moments last, Far dearer to my heart Were hours of grief, together past, Than years of mirth apart, Dear love!

Than years of mirth apart.

Farewell! our hope was born in fears, And nurst mid vain regrets: Like winter suns, it rose in tears, Like them in tears it sets, Dear love!

Like them in tears it sets.

GAYLY SOUNDS THE CASTANET.

(MALTESE AIR.)

Gayly sounds the castanet, Beating time to bounding feet, When, after daylight's golden set, Maids and youths by moonlight meet.

Oh, then, how sweet to move Thro' all that maze of mirth, Led by light from eyes we love Beyond all eyes on earth.