Poem by Thomas Moore

From “Irish Melodies”. 63. Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded

          HAS sorrow thy young days shaded,
                As clouds o’er the morning fleet?
          Too fast have those young days faded
                That, even in sorrow, were sweet?
          Does Time with his cold wing wither
                Each feeling that once was dear? —
          Then, child of misfortune, come hither,
                I’ll weep with thee, tear for tear.

          Has love to that soul, so tender,
                Been like our Lagenian mine,
          Where sparkles of golden splendour
                All over the surface shine —
          But, if in pursuit we go deeper,
                Allured by the gleam that shone,
          Ah! false as the dream of the sleeper,
                Like Love, the bright ore is gone.

          Has Hope, like the bird in the story,
                That flitted from tree to tree
          With the talisman’s glittering glory —
                Has Hope been that bird to thee?
          On branch after branch alighting,
                The gem did she still display,
          And, when nearest, and most inviting,
                Then waft the fair gem away?

          If thus the young hours have fleeted,
                When sorrow itself look’d bright;
          If thus the fair hope hath cheated,
                That led thee along so light;
          If thus the cold world now wither
                Each feeling that once was dear —
          Come, child of misfortune, come hither,
                I’ll weep with thee, tear for tear.

1. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 46
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 15
3. From “Irish Melodies”. 113. Alone in Crowds to Wander On
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 54
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 75

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