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GO THEN - 'TIS VAIN by THOMAS MOORE


Go, then 't is vain to hover
Thus round a hope that's dead;
At length my dream is over;
'Twas sweet -'t was false -'t is 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.




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