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1779–1852

IF IN LOVING, SINGING.

Thomas Moore

If in loving, singing, night and day We could trifle merrily life away, Like atoms dancing in the beam, Like day-flies skimming o'er the stream,

Or summer blossoms, born to sigh Their sweetness out, and die — How brilliant, thoughtless, side by side, Thou and I could make our minutes glide!

No atoms ever glanced so bright, No day-flies ever danced so light, Nor summer blossoms mixt their sigh, So close, as thou and I!

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IF IN LOVING, SINGING. · Thomas Moore · Poetry Cove