Dost Thou Remember. (Portuguese Air.)

A poem by Thomas Moore

Dost thou remember that place so lonely,
A place for lovers and lovers only,
Where first I told thee all my secret sighs?
When, as the moonbeam that trembled o'er thee
Illumed thy blushes, I knelt before thee,
And read my hope's sweet triumph in those eyes?
Then, then, while closely heart was drawn to heart,
Love bound us--never, never more to part!

And when I called thee by names the dearest[1]
That love could fancy, the fondest, nearest,--
"My life, my only life!" among the rest;
In those sweet accents that still enthral me,
Thou saidst, "Ah!" wherefore thy life thus call me?
"Thy soul, thy soul's the name I love best;
"For life soon passes,--but how blest to be
"That Soul which never, never parts from thee!"

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Dost Thou Remember. (Portuguese Air.)' by Thomas Moore

comments powered by Disqus