Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
VI. LoversLove’s Young Dream
Thomas Moore (1779–1852)O
My heart’s chain wove!
When my dream of life, from morn till night,
Was love, still love!
New hope may bloom,
And days may come,
Of milder, calmer beam,
But there ’s nothing half so sweet in life
As love’s young dream!
O, there ’s nothing half so sweet in life
As love’s young dream!
When wild youth ’s past;
Though he win the wise, who frowned before,
To smile at last;
He ’ll never meet
A joy so sweet
In all his noon of fame
As when first he sung to woman’s ear
His soul-felt flame,
And at every close she blushed to hear
The one loved name!
Which first love traced;
Still it lingering haunts the greenest spot
On memory’s waste!
’T was odor fled
As soon as shed;
’T was morning’s wingèd dream;
’T was a light that ne’er can shine again
On life’s dull stream!
O, ’t was a light that ne’er can shine again
On life’s dull stream!