Poem by Thomas Moore

From “Irish Melodies”. 5. When He, Who Adores Thee

        WHEN he, who adores thee, has left but the name
                Of his fault and his sorrows behind,
          Oh! say wilt thou weep, when they darken the fame
                Of a life that for thee was resign’d?
          Yes, weep, and however my foes may condemn,
                Thy tears shall efface their decree;
          For Heaven can witness, though guilty to them,
                I have been but too faithful to thee.

          With thee were the dreams of my earliest love;
                Every thought of my reason was thine;
          In my last humble prayer to the Spirit above,
                Thy name shall be mingled with mine.
          Oh! blest are the lovers and friends who shall live
                The days of thy glory to see;
          But the next dearest blessing that Heaven can give
                Is the pride of thus dying for thee.

1. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 16
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 75
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 27
4. From “Irish Melodies”. 114. I’ve a Secret to Tell Thee
5. Bright Be Thy Dreams

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