Thomas Moore

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!

Cheek . . .
Flushing white and mellow'd red;
Gradual tints, as when there glows
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Cheek . . .
Flushing white and mellow'd red;
Gradual tints, as when there glows
In snowy milk the bashful rose.

All that's bright must fade,--
The brightest still the fleetest;
All that's sweet was made
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All that's bright must fade,--
The brightest still the fleetest;
All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest.

The heart that has truly loved never forgets But as truly loves on to the close.

The heart that has truly loved never forgets But as truly loves on to the close.

Find me next a Poppy posy,
Type of his harangues so dozy.

Find me next a Poppy posy,
Type of his harangues so dozy.