Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON THE DEATH OF A LADY, by THOMAS MOORE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ON THE DEATH OF A LADY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Sweet spirit! If thy airy sleep
Last Line: We thought thou wert not form'd to die!
Alternate Author Name(s): Little, Thomas
Subject(s): Death; Dead, The


SWEET spirit! if thy airy sleep
Nor sees my tears, nor hears my sighs,
Oh! I will weep, in luxury weep,
Till the last heart's-drop fills mine eyes.

But if thy sainted soul can feel,
And mingles in our misery;
Then, then, my breaking heart I'll seal --
Thou shalt not hear one sigh from me!

The beam of morn was on the stream,
But sullen clouds the day deform:
Thou wert, indeed, that morning beam,
And death, alas! that sullen storm.

Thou wert not form'd for living here,
For thou wert kindred with the sky;
Yet, yet we held thee all so dear,
We thought thou wert not form'd to die!





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