The time I've lost in wooing - Thomas Moore |
|||||
![]() |
The time I've lost in wooing, Her smile when
Beauty granted,
|
||||
And
are those follies going? And is my proud heart growing Too cold or wise For brilliant eyes Again to set it glowing? No, vain, alas! th' endeavour From bonds so sweet so sever; Poor Wisdom's chance Against a glance Is now as weak as ever. |
|||||
The New Oxford Book of Romantic Period Verse may be obtained from here |
Copyright © 2000