Did Not.

A poem by Thomas Moore

'Twas a new feeling--something more
Than we had dared to own before.
Which then we hid not;
We saw it in each other's eye,
And wished, in every half-breathed sigh,
To speak, but did not.

She felt my lips' impassioned touch--
'Twas the first time I dared so much,
And yet she chid not;
But whispered o'er my burning brow,
"Oh! do you doubt I love you now?"
Sweet soul! I did not.

Warmly I felt her bosom thrill,
I prest it closer, closer still,
Though gently bid not;
Till--oh! the world hath seldom heard
Of lovers, who so nearly erred,
And yet, who did not.

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