One Dear Smile.

A poem by Thomas Moore

Couldst thou look as dear as when
First I sighed for thee;
Couldst thou make me feel again
Every wish I breathed thee then,
Oh, how blissful life would be!
Hopes that now beguiling leave me,
Joys that lie in slumber cold--
All would wake, couldst thou but give me
One dear smile like those of old.

No--there's nothing left us now,
But to mourn the past;
Vain was every ardent vow--
Never yet did Heaven allow
Love so warm, so wild, to last.
Not even hope could now deceive me--
Life itself looks dark and cold;
Oh, thou never more canst give me
One dear smile like those of old