Untitled poem to a lost love by T. MOORE.
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| Untitled poem to a lost love | |
At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye; And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there And tell me our love is remember'd even in the sky! Then I sing the wild song it once was rapture to hear When our voices, commingling, breathed like one on the ear; And as Echo far off through the vale my sad orison rolls, I think, O my love! 'tis thy voice, from the Kingdom of Souls Faintly answering still the notes that once were so dear. |
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| T. MOORE., THE GOLDEN TREASURY Of the best Songs and Lyrical Pieces In the English Language Selected by Francis Turner Palgrave | |
| Notes: Orison (spirituality), the act of attempting to communicate with a deity or spirit; | |
| Tags: Loss poems | |
