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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

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


Thus, maidens, thus do I beguile
The task your fingers ply.--
May all who hear like Susan smile,
And not, like Cloe, sigh!

[1] Suggested by the following remark of Swift's;--"The reason why so few
marriages are happy, is, because young ladies spend their time in making
nets, not in making cages."



WHEN THROUGH THE PIAZZETTA.
(VENETIAN AIR.)

When thro' the Piazzetta
Night breathes her cool air,
Then, dearest Ninetta,
I'll come to thee there.
Beneath thy mask shrouded,
I'll know thee afar,
As Love knows tho' clouded
His own Evening Star.
In garb, then, resembling
Some gay gondolier,
I'll whisper thee, trembling,
"Our bark, love, is near:
"Now, now, while there hover
"Those clouds o'er the moon,
"'Twill waft thee safe over
"Yon silent Lagoon."



GO, NOW, AND DREAM.
(SICILIAN AIR.)

Go, now, and dream o'er that joy in thy slumber--
Moments so sweet again ne'er shalt thou number.
Of Pain's bitter draught the flavor ne'er flies,
While Pleasure's scarce touches the lip ere it dies.
Go, then, and dream, etc.
That moon, which hung o'er your parting, so splendid,
Often will shine again, bright as she then did--
But, never more will the beam she saw burn
In those happy eyes, at your meeting, return.


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