Thomas Moore

From “Irish Melodies”. 82. To Ladies' Eyes

          TO Ladies’ eyes a round, boy,
                We can’t refuse, we can’t refuse;
          Though bright eyes so abound, boy,
                ’Tis hard to choose, ’tis hard to choose.
          For thick as stars that lighten
                Yon airy bowers, yon airy bowers,
          The countless eyes that brighten
                This earth of ours, this earth of ours.
          But fill the cup — where’er, boy,
                Our choice may fall, our choice may fall,
          We’re sure to find Love there, boy,
                So drink them all! so drink them all!

          Some looks there are so holy,
                They seem but given, they seem but given,
          As shining beacons, solely,
                To light to heaven, to light to heaven,
          While some — oh! ne’er believe them —
                With tempting ray, with tempting ray,
          Would lead us (God forgive them!)
                The other way, the other way.
          But fill the cup — where’er, boy,
                Our choice may fall, our choice may fall,
          We’re sure to find Love there, boy;
                So drink them all! so drink them all!

          In some, as in a mirror,
                Love seems pourtray’d, Love seems pourtray’d,
          But shun the flattering error,
                ’Tis but his shade, ’tis but his shade.
          Himself has fix’d his dwelling
                In eyes we know, in eyes we know,
          And lips — but this is telling —
                So here they go! so here they go!
          Fill up, fill up — where’er, boy,
                Our choice may fall, our choice may fall,
          We’re sure to find Love there, boy;
                So drink them all ! so drink them all!