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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

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


There is a bright Fountain, thro' that Desert stealing
To pure lips alone its refreshment revealing--
What may that Fountain be?
'Tis Truth, holy Truth, that, like springs under ground,
By the gifted of Heaven alone can be found.
There is a fair Spirit whose wand hath the spell
To point where those waters in secrecy dwell--
Who may that Spirit be?
'Tis Faith, humble Faith, who hath learned that where'er
Her wand bends to worship the Truth must be there!



SINCE FIRST THY WORD.
(AIR.--NICHOLAS FREEMAN.)

Since first Thy Word awaked my heart,
Like new life dawning o'er me,
Where'er I turn mine eyes, Thou art,
All light and love before me.
Naught else I feel, or hear or see--
All bonds of earth I sever--
Thee, O God, and only Thee
I live for, now and ever.
Like him whose fetters dropt away
When light shone o'er his prison,[1]
My spirit, touched by Mercy's ray,
Hath from her chains arisen.
And shall a soul Thou bidst be free,
Return to bondage?--never!
Thee, O God, and only Thee
I live for, now and ever.

[1] "And, behold, the angel of the Lord came upon him, and a light shined
in the prison...and his chains fell off from his hands."--_Acts_,
xii. 7.



HARK! 'TIS THE BREEZE.
(AIR.--ROUSSEAU.)

Hark! 'tis the breeze of twilight calling;
Earth's weary children to repose;
While, round the couch of Nature falling,
Gently the night's soft curtains close.


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