THOMAS MOORE
592 The Young May Moon
E young May moon is beaming, love, The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love; How sweet to rove Through Morna'b grove, When the drowsy world is dreaming, love ' Then awake' the heavens look bright, my dear, 'Tis never too late for delight, my dear; And the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear'
Now all the world is sleeping, love,
But the Sage, his star-watch keeping, love,
And I, whose ttar
More glorious far
Is the eye from that casement peeping, love. Then awake' till rise of sun, my dear, The Sage's glass we'll shun, my dear,
Or in watching the flight
Of bodies of light He might happen to take thce for one, my dear'
��595 The Light of Other Days
OFT, in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me: The smiles, the tears Of boyhood's years,
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