They Met But Once.

A poem by Thomas Moore

They met but once, in youth's sweet hour,
And never since that day
Hath absence, time, or grief had power
To chase that dream away.
They've seen the suns of other skies,
On other shores have sought delight;
But never more to bless their eyes
Can come a dream so bright!
They met but once,--a day was all
Of Love's young hopes they knew;
And still their hearts that day recall
As fresh as then it flew.

Sweet dream of youth! oh, ne'er again
Let either meet the brow
They left so smooth and smiling then,
Or see what it is now.
For, Youth, the spell was only thine,
From thee alone the enchantment flows,
That makes the world around thee shine
With light thyself bestows.
They met but once,--oh, ne'er again
Let either meet the brow
They left so smooth and smiling then,
Or see what it is now.

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