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Oh, No-Not Ev'n When First We Lov'd
by Thomas Moore



Oh, no-not ev'n when first we lov'd
Wert thou as dear as now thou art;
Thy beauty then my senses mov'd,
But now my virtues bind my heart,
What was but Passion's sigh before
Has since been turn'd to Reason's vow;
And, though I then might love thee more,
Trust me, I love thee better now.

Although my heart in earlier youth
Might kindle with more wild desire,
Believe me, it has gain'd in truth
Much more than it has lost in fire.
The flame now warms my inmost core
That then but sparkled o'er my brow,
And though I seem'd to love thee more,
Yet, oh, I love thee better now.


Thee, Thee, Only Thee by Thomas Moore
The dawning of morn, the daylight's sinking,
The night's long hours still find me thinking
Of thee, thee, only thee.
When friends are met, and goblets crown'd,
And smiles are near that once enchanted,
Unreach'd by all that sunshine round,
My soul, like some dark spot, is haunted
By thee, thee, only thee.

Whatever in fame's high path could waken
My spirit once is now forsaken
For thee, thee, only thee.
Like shores by which some headlong bark
To ocean hurries, resting never,
Life's scenes go by me, bright or dark
I know not, heed not, hastening ever
To thee, thee, only thee.

I have not joy but of thy bringing,
And pain itself seems sweet when springing
From thee, thee, only thee.
Like spells that nought on earth can break,
Till lips that know the charm have spoken,
This heart, howe'er the world may wake
Its grief, its scorn, can but be broken
By thee, thee, only thee.