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1779–1852

ELEGIAC STANZAS.

Thomas Moore

Though sorrow long has worn my heart; Though every day I've, counted o'er Hath brought a new and, quickening smart To wounds that rankled fresh before;

Though in my earliest life bereft Of tender links by nature tied; Though hope deceived, and pleasure left; Though friends betrayed and foes belied;

I still had hopes — for hope will stay After the sunset of delight; So like the star which ushers day, We scarce can think it heralds night!—

I hoped that, after all its strife, My weary heart at length should rest. And, feinting from the waves of life, Find harbor in a brother's breast.

That brother's breast was warm with truth, Was bright with honor's purest ray; He was the dearest, gentlest youth — Ah, why then was he torn away?

He should have stayed, have lingered here To soothe his Julia's every woe; He should have chased each bitter tear, And not have caused those tears to flow.

We saw within his soul expand The fruits of genius, nurst by taste; While Science, with a fostering hand, Upon his brow her chaplet placed.

We saw, by bright degrees, his mind Grow rich in all that makes men dear; Enlightened, social, and refined, In friendship firm, in love sincere.

Such was the youth we loved so well, And such the hopes that fate denied;— We loved, but ah! could scarcely tell How deep, how dearly, till he died!

Close as the fondest links could strain, Twined with my very heart he grew; And by that fate which breaks the chain, The heart is almost broken too.

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ELEGIAC STANZAS. · Thomas Moore · Poetry Cove