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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

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


Oh! ah! etc.
Still round and round thro' life we'll go.
SHE.
To Lord Fitznoodle's eldest son,
A youth renowned for waistcoats smart,
I now have given (excuse the pun)
A vested interest in my heart.
Oh! ah! etc.
Still round and round with him I'll go.
HE.
What if by fond remembrance led
Again to wear our mutual chain.
For me thou cut'st Fitznoodle
dead,
And I _levant_ from Lady Jane.
Oh! ah! etc.
Still round and round again we'll go.
SHE.
Tho' he the Noodle honors give,
And thine, dear youth, are not so high,
With thee in endless waltz I'd live,
With thee, to Weber's Stop--
Waltz, die!
Oh! ah! etc.
Thus round and round thro' life we'll go.
[_Exeunt waltzing_.
* * * * *
While thus, like motes that dance away
Existence in a summer ray,
These gay things, born but to quadrille,
The circle of their doom fulfil--
(That dancing doom whose law decrees
That they should live on the alert toe
A life of ups-and-downs, like keys
Of Broadwood's in a long concerto:--)
While thus the fiddle's spell, _within_,
Calls up its realm of restless sprites.
_Without_, as if some Mandarin
Were holding there his Feast of Lights,
Lamps of all hues, from walks and bowers,
Broke on the eye, like kindling flowers,
Till, budding into light, each tree
Bore its full fruit of brilliancy.


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