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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

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



Her last words, at parting, how _can_ I forget?
Deep treasured thro' life, in my heart they shall stay;
Like music, whose charm in the soul lingers yet,
When its sounds from the ear have long melted away.
Let Fortune assail me, her threatenings are vain;
Those still-breathing words shall my talisman be,--
"Remember, in absence, in sorrow, and pain,
"There's one heart, unchanging, that beats but for thee."
From the desert's sweet well tho' the pilgrim must hie,
Never more of that fresh-springing fountain to taste,
He hath still of its bright drops a treasured supply,
Whose sweetness lends life to his lips thro' the waste.
So, dark as my fate is still doomed to remain,
These words shall my well in the wilderness be,--
"Remember, in absence, in sorrow, and pain,
"There's one heart, unchanging, that beats but for thee."



LET'S TAKE THIS WORLD AS SOME WIDE SCENE.

Let's take this world as some wide scene.
Thro' which in frail but buoyant boat,
With skies now dark and now serene,
Together thou and I must float;
Beholding oft on either shore
Bright spots where we should love to stay;
But Time plies swift his flying oar,
And away we speed, away, away.
Should chilling winds and rains come on,
We'll raise our awning 'gainst the shower;
Sit closer till the storm is gone,
And, smiling, wait a sunnier hour.


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