Томас Мур (Thomas Moore)

From “Irish Melodies”. 21. Desmond’s Song

          BY the Feal’s wave benighted,
                No star in the skies,
          To thy door by Love lighted,
                I first saw those eyes.
          Some voice whisper’d o’er me,
                As the threshold I cross’d,
          There was ruin before me,
                If I loved, I was lost.

          Love came, and brought sorrow
                Too soon in his train;
          Yet so sweet, that to-morrow
                ’Twere welcome again.
          Though misery’s full measure
                My portion should be,
          I would drain it with pleasure,
                If pour’d out by thee.

          You, who call it dishonour
                To bow to this flame,
          If you’ve eyes, look but on her,
                And blush while you blame.
          Hath the pearl less whiteness
                Because of its birth?
          Hath the violet less brightness
                For growing near earth?

          No — Man for his glory
                To ancestry flies;
          But Woman’s bright story
                Is told in her eyes.
          While the Monarch but traces
                Through mortals his line,
          Beauty, born of the Graces,
                Ranks next to Divine!

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