Go, then--'tis vain to hover
Thus round a hope that's dead;
At length my dream is over;
'Twas sweet--'twas false--'tis fled!
Farewell! since naught it moves thee,
Such truth as mine to see--
Some one, who far less loves thee,
Perhaps more blest will be.
Farewell, sweet eyes, whose brightness
New life around me shed;
Farewell, false heart, whose lightness
Now leaves me death instead.
Go, now, those charms surrender
To some new lover's sigh--
One who, tho' far less tender,
May be more blest than I.
Go, Then--'tis Vain. (sicilian Air.)
Thomas Moore
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Poem topics: death, dream, heart, hope, life, truth, tender, sweet, farewell, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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