English poem
Tibullus To Sulpicia.
by Thomas Moore
nulla tuum nobis subducet femina lectum, etc., Lib. iv. Carm. 13. "Never shall woman's smile have power "To win me from those gentle charms!"-- Thus swore I, in that happy hour, When Love first gave thee to my arms. And still alone thou charm'st my sight-- Still, tho' our city proudly shine With forms and faces, fair and bright, I see none fair or bright but thine. Would thou wert fair for only me, And couldst no heart but mine allure!-- To all men else unpleasing be, So shall I feel my prize secure. Oh, love like mine ne'er wants the zest Of others' envy, others' praise; But, in its silence safely blest, Broods o'er a bliss it ne'er betrays. Charm of my life! by whose sweet power All cares are husht, all ills subdued-- My light in even the darkest hour, My crowd in deepest solitude! No, not tho' heaven itself sent down Some maid of more than heavenly charms, With bliss undreamt thy bard to crown, Would he for her forsake those arms!
More by Thomas Moore
- Thoughts On Patrons, Puffs, And Other Matters. In An Epistle From Thomas Moore To Samuel Rogers.
- Thoughts On Tar Barrels.
- Thoughts On The Late Destructive Propositions Of The Tories.[1] By A Common-Councilman.
- Thoughts On The Present Government Of Ireland.
- Tis All For Thee.
- Tis Gone, And For Ever.
- Tis Sweet To Think.
- Tis the Last Rose of Summer