Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


HEAR ME BUT ONCE by THOMAS MOORE


HEAR me but once, while o'er the grave,
In which our Love lies cold and dead,
I count each flattering hope he gave
Of joys now lost and charms now fled .
Who could have thought the smile he wore
When first we met would fade away?
Or that a chill would e'er come o'er
Those eyes so bright thro' many a day?
Hear me but once, etc.




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