Thou Lovest No More.

A poem by Thomas Moore

Too plain, alas, my doom is spoken
Nor canst thou veil the sad truth o'er;
Thy heart is changed, thy vow is broken,
Thou lovest no more--thou lovest no more.

Tho' kindly still those eyes behold me,
The smile is gone, which once they wore;
Tho' fondly still those arms enfold me,
'Tis not the same--thou lovest no more.

Too long my dream of bliss believing,
I've thought thee all thou wert before;
But now--alas! there's no deceiving,
'Tis all too plain, thou lovest no more.

Oh, thou as soon the dead couldst waken,
As lost affection's life restore,
Give peace to her that is forsaken,
Or bring back him who loves no more.

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