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1779–1852

JOYS OF YOUTH, HOW FLEETING!

Thomas Moore

Whisperings, heard by wakeful maids, To whom the night-stars guide us; Stolen walks thro’ moonlight shades, With those we love beside us,

Hearts beating, At meeting; Tears starting, At parting;

Oh, sweet youth, how soon it fades! Sweet joys of youth, how fleeting! Wanderings far away from home, With life all new before us;

Greetings warm, when home we come, From hearts whose prayers watched o'er us. Tears starting, At parting;

Hearts beating, At meeting; Oh, sweet youth, how lost on some! To some, how bright and fleeting!

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