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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

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


And not all life before us,
Howe'er its lights may play,
Can shed a lustre o'er us
Like that first April ray.
Our summer sun may squander
A blaze serener, grander;
Our autumn beam
May, like a dream
Of heaven, die calm away;
But no--let life before us
Bring all the light it may,
'Twill ne'er shed lustre o'er us
Like that first youthful ray.



BLACK AND BLUE EYES.

The brilliant black eye
May in triumph let fly
All its darts without Caring who feels 'em;
But the soft eye of blue,
Tho' it scatter wounds too,
Is much better pleased when it heals 'em--
Dear Fanny!
Is much better pleased when it heals 'em.
The black eye may say,
"Come and worship my ray--
"By adoring, perhaps you may move me!"
But the blue eye, half hid,
Says from under its lid,
"I love and am yours, if you love me!"
Yes, Fanny!
The blue eye, half hid,
Says, from under its lid,
"I love and am yours, if you love me!"
Come tell me, then, why
In that lovely blue eye
Not a charm of its tint I discover;
Oh why should you wear
The only blue pair
That ever said "No" to a lover?
Dear Fanny!
Oh, why should you wear
The only blue pair
That ever said "No" to a lover?



DEAR FANNY.


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