Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO - (1) by THOMAS MOORE

First Line: WITH ALL MY SOUL, THEN, LET US PART
Last Line: HE LOVES NOT HALF SO WELL AS I!
WITH all my soul, then, let us part,
Since both are anxious to be free;
And I will send you home your heart,
If you will send back mine to me.

We've had some happy hours together,
But joy must often change its wing;
And spring would be but gloomy weather,
If we had nothing else but spring.

'Tis not that I expect to find
A more devoted, fond, and true one,
With rosier cheek or sweeter mind --
Enough for me that she's a new one.

Thus let us leave the bower of love,
Where we have loiter'd long in bliss;
And you may down @3that@1 pathway rove,
While I shall take my way through @3this@1

Our hearts have suffer'd little harm
In this short fever of desire;
You have not lost a single charm,
Nor I one spark of feeling fire.

My kisses have not stain'd the rose
Which Nature hung upon your lip;
And still your sigh with nectar flows
For many a raptured soul to sip.

Farewell! and when some other fair
Shall call your wanderer to her arms,
'Twill be my luxury to compare
Her spells with your remember'd charms.

"This cheek," I'll say, "is not so bright
As one that used to meet my kiss;
This eye has not such liquid light
As one that used to talk of bliss!"

Farewell! and when some future lover
Shall claim the heart which I resign,
And in exulting joys discover
All the charms that once were mine;

I think I should be sweetly blest,
If, in a soft imperfect sigh,
You'd say, while to his bosom prest,
He loves not half so well as I!



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