Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE RING, by THOMAS MOORE



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE RING, by             Poem Explanation         Poet's Biography
First Line: No -- lady! Lady! Keep the ring
Last Line: Give me the ring, and now -- o heaven!
Alternate Author Name(s): Little, Thomas
Subject(s): Jewelry & Jewelers


No -- Lady! Lady! keep the ring;
Oh! think, how many a future year,
Of placid smile and downy wing,
May sleep within its holy sphere!

Do not disturb their tranquil dream,
Though love hath ne'er the mystery warm'd,
Yet Heaven will shed a soothing beam,
To bless the bond itself hath form'd.

But then, that eye, that burning eye!
Oh! it doth ask, with magic power,
If Heaven can ever bless the tie,
Where love inwreathes no genial flower!

Away, away, bewildering look!
Or all the boast of virtue 's o'er;
Go -- hie thee to the sage's book,
And learn from him to feel no more!

I cannot warn thee; every touch,
That brings my pulses close to thine,
Tells me I want thy aid as much,
Oh! quite as much, as thou dost mine!

Yet stay, dear love -- one effort yet --
A moment turn those eyes away,
And let me, if I can, forget
The light that leads my soul astray!

Thou say'st, that we were born to meet,
That our hearts bear one common seal:
O Lady! think, how man's deceit
Can seem to sigh and feign to feel!

When o'er thy face some gleam of thought,
Like daybeams through the morning air,
Hath gradual stole, and I have caught
The feeling ere it kindled there:

The sympathy I then betray'd
Perhaps was but the child of art;
The guile of one, who long hath play'd
With all these wily nets of heart.

Oh! thou hast not my virgin vow;
Though few the years I yet have told,
Canst thou believe I live till now,
With loveless heart or senses cold?

No -- many a throb of bliss and pain,
For many a maid my soul hath proved;
With some I wanton'd wild and vain,
While some I truly, dearly loved!

The cheek to thine I fondly lay,
To theirs hath been as fondly laid;
The words to thee I warmly say,
To them have been as warmly said.

Then, scorn at once a languid heart,
Which long hath lost its early spring;
Think of the pure, bright soul thou art,
And -- keep the ring, oh! keep the ring.

Enough -- now, turn thine eyes again;
What, still that look and still that sigh!
Dost thou not feel my counsel then?
Oh! no, beloved! -- nor do I.

While thus to mine thy bosom lies,
While thus our breaths commingling glow,
'Twere more than woman, to be wise,
'Twere more than man, to wish thee so!

Did we not love so true, so dear,
This lapse could never be forgiven;
But hearts so fond and lips so near --
Give me the ring, and now -- O heaven!





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