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1779–1852

LOVE, WANDERING THRO’ THE GOLDEN MAZE.

Thomas Moore

Love, wandering through the golden maze Of my beloved's hair, Traced every lock with fond delays, And, doting, lingered there.

And soon he found‘ twere vain to fly; His heart was close confined, For, every ringlet was a tie — A chain by beauty twined.

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LOVE, WANDERING THRO’ THE GOLDEN MAZE. · Thomas Moore · Poetry Cove