Thomas Moore

It seem'd as if each thought and look
And motion were that minute chain'd
Fast to the read more

It seem'd as if each thought and look
And motion were that minute chain'd
Fast to the spot such root she took,
And--like a sunflower by a brook,
With face upturn'd--so still remain'd!

And soon, too soon, we part with pain,
To sail o'er silent seas again.

And soon, too soon, we part with pain,
To sail o'er silent seas again.

Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious and free,
First flower of the earth, and first gem read more

Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious and free,
First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea.

But the trail of the serpent is over them all.

But the trail of the serpent is over them all.

With what a deep devotedness of woe
I wept thy absence--o'er and o'er again
Thinking of thee, read more

With what a deep devotedness of woe
I wept thy absence--o'er and o'er again
Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain,
And memory, like a drop that, night and day,
Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!