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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

"The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Collected by Himself with Explanatory Notes"


Ere we forget the deep arrears
Of vengeance they have left us!
Woe to the conqueror!



WHEN THOU SHALT WANDER.
(SICILIAN AIR.)

When thou shalt wander by that sweet light
We used to gaze on so many an eve,
When love was new and hope was bright,
Ere I could doubt or thou deceive--
Oh, then, remembering how swift went by
Those hours of transport, even _thou_ may'st sigh.
Yes, proud one! even thy heart may own
That love like ours was far too sweet
To be, like summer garments thrown
Aside, when past the summer's heat;
And wish in vain to know again
Such days, such nights, as blest thee then.



WHO'LL BUY MY LOVE-KNOTS?
(PORTUGUESE AIR.)

Hymen, late, his love-knots selling,
Called at many a maiden's dwelling:
None could doubt, who saw or knew them,
Hymen's call was welcome to them.
"Who'll buy my love-knots?
"Who'll buy my love-knots?"
Soon as that sweet cry resounded
How his baskets were surrounded!
Maids, who now first dreamt of trying
These gay knots of Hymen's tying;
Dames, who long had sat to watch him
Passing by, but ne'er could catch him;--
"Who'll buy my love-knots?
"Who'll buy my love-knots?"--
All at that sweet cry assembled;
Some laughed, some blushed, and some trembled.
"Here are knots," said Hymen, taking
Some loose flowers, "of Love's own making;
"Here are gold ones--you may trust 'em"--
(These, of course, found ready custom).


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