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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

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


And if that sunnier hour should shine,
We'll know its brightness cannot stay,
But happy while 'tis thine and mine,
Complain not when it fades away.
So shall we reach at last that Fall
Down which life's currents all must go,--
The dark, the brilliant, destined all
To sink into the void below.
Nor even that hour shall want its charms,
If, side by side, still fond we keep,
And calmly, in each other's arms
Together linked, go down the steep.



LOVE'S VICTORY.

Sing to Love--for, oh, 'twas he
Who won the glorious day;
Strew the wreaths of victory
Along the conqueror's way.
Yoke the Muses to his car,
Let them sing each trophy won;
While his mother's joyous star
Shall light the triumph on.
Hail to Love, to mighty Love,
Let spirits sing around;
While the hill, the dale, and grove,
With "mighty Love" resound;
Or, should a sigh of sorrow steal
Amid the sounds thus echoed o'er,
'Twill but teach the god to feel
His victories the more.
See his wings, like amethyst
Of sunny Ind their hue;
Bright as when, by Psyche kist,
They trembled thro' and thro'.
Flowers spring beneath his feet;
Angel forms beside him run;
While unnumbered lips repeat
"Love's victory is won!"
Hail to Love, to mighty Love,
etc,



SONG OF HERCULES TO HIS DAUGHTER.


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