Dah Duit (Hi) and welcome

Thomas Moore



Alone in Crowds to Wander On
by
Thomas Moore


Alone in crowds to wander on,

And feel that all the charm is gone


Which voices dear and eyes beloved

Shed round us once, where'er we roved --

This, this the doom must be

Of all who've loved, and loved to see

The few bright things they thought would stay

For ever near them, die away.

Though fairer forms around us throng,

Their smiles to others all belong,

And want that charm which dwells alone

Round those the fond heart calls its own,

Where, where the sunny brow?

The long-known voice -- where are they now?

Thus ask I still, nor ask in vain,

The silence answers all too plain.

Oh, what is Fancy's magic worth,

If all her art cannot call forth

One bliss like those we felt of old

From lips now mute, and eyes now cold?

No, no -- her spell in vain --

As soon could she bring back again

Those eyes themselves from out the grave,

As wake again one bliss they gave.




“Did Not”



'Twas a new feeling - something more

Than we had dared to own before,

Which then we hid not;

We saw it in each other's eye,

And wished, in every half-breathed sigh,

To speak, but did not.

She felt my lips' impassioned touch -

'Twas the first time I dared so much,

And yet she chid not;

But whispered o'er my burning brow,

'Oh, do you doubt I love you now?'

Sweet soul! I did not.

Warmly I felt her bosom thrill,

I pressed it closer, closer still,

Though gently bid not;

Till - oh! the world hath seldom heard

Of lovers, who so nearly erred,

And yet, who did not.



"The Surprise"


Chloris, I swear, by all I ever swore,

That from this hour I shall not love thee more -

"What! love no more? Oh! why this alter'd vow?"

Because I CANNOT love thee MORE than NOW!



"Come, Rest In This Bosom"


Come, rest in this bosom, my own sticken dear!

Though the herd have fled from thee, thy home is still here;

Here still is the smile that no cloud can o'er cast,

That the heart and the hand all thy own to the last!

Oh! what was love made for, if 'tis not the same

Through joy and through torments, through glory and shame?

I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart,

I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art!

Thou has call'd me thy angel in moments of bliss,

Still thy angel I'll be, 'mid the horrors of this, -

Through the furnace, unshrinking, thy steps to pursue,

And shield thee, and save thee, or perish there too!





Song



Have you not seen the timid tear

Steal trembling from mine eye?

Have you not mark'd the flush of fear,

Or caught the murmur'd sigh?

And can you think my love is chill,

Nor fix'd on you alone?

And can you rend, by doubting still,

A heart so much your own?

To you my soul's affections move

Devoutly, warmly, true:

My life has been a task of love,

One long, long thought of you.

If all your tender faith is o'er,

If still my truth you'll try;

Alas! I know but one proof more -

I'll bless your name, and die!





"I'd Mourn The Hopes"


I'd mourn the hopes that leave me,

If thy smiles had left me too;

I'd weep, when friends deceive me,

If thou wert, like them, untrue.

But while I've thee before me,

With heart so warm and eyes so bright,

No clouds can linger o'er me,

That smile turns them all to light!

'Tis not in fate to harm me.

While fate leaves thy love to me;

'Tis not in joy to charm me,

Unless joy be shared with thee.

One minute's dream bout thee

Were worth a long, an endless year

Of waking bliss without thee,

My own love, my only dear!

And though the hope be gone, love,

That long sparkled o'er our way,

Oh! we shall journey on, love,

More safely without its ray.

Far better lights shall win me

Along the path I've yet to roam -

The mind that burns within me,

And pure smiles from thee at home.

Thus, when the lamp that lighted

The traveller, at first, goes out,

He feels a while benighted,

And looks round in fear and doubt.

But soon, the prospect clearing,

By cloudless starlight on he treads,

And thinks no lamp so cheering

As that light which Heaven sheds.



"Come, Rest In This Bosom"


Come, rest in this bosom, my own sticken dear!

Though the herd have fled from thee, thy home is still here;

Here still is the smile that no cloud can o'er cast,

That the heart and the hand all thy own to the last!

Oh! what was love made for, if 'tis not the same

Through joy and through torments, through glory and shame?

I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart,

I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art!

Thou has call'd me thy angel in moments of bliss,

Still thy angel I'll be, 'mid the horrors of this, -

Through the furnace, unshrinking, thy steps to pursue,

And shield thee, and save thee, or perish there too!



"I'd Mourn The Hopes"


I'd mourn the hopes that leave me,

If thy smiles had left me too;

I'd weep, when friends deceive me,

If thou wert, like them, untrue.

But while I've thee before me,

With heart so warm and eyes so bright,

No clouds can linger o'er me,

That smile turns them all to light!

'Tis not in fate to harm me.

While fate leaves thy love to me;

'Tis not in joy to charm me,

Unless joy be shared with thee.

One minute's dream bout thee

Were worth a long, an endless year

Of waking bliss without thee,

My own love, my only dear!

And though the hope be gone, love,

That long sparkled o'er our way,

Oh! we shall journey on, love,

More safely without its ray.

Far better lights shall win me

Along the path I've yet to roam -

The mind that burns within me,

And pure smiles from thee at home.

Thus, when the lamp that lighted

The traveller, at first, goes out,

He feels a while benighted,

And looks round in fear and doubt.

But soon, the prospect clearing,

By cloudless starlight on he treads,

And thinks no lamp so cheering

As that light which Heaven sheds.



"Farewell! But Whenever You Welcome The Hour"


Farewell! but whenever you welcome the hour

That awakens the night-song of mirth in your bower,

Then think of the friend who once welcomed it too,

And forgot his own griefs to be happy with you.

His griefs may return - not a hope may remain

Of the few that have brighen'd his pathway of pain -

But he ne'er will forget the short vision that threw

Its enchantment around him while ling'ring with you!

And still on that evening, when pleasure fills up

To the highest top sparkle each heart and each cup,

Where'er my path lies, be it gloomy or bright,

My soul, happy friends! shall be with you that night;

Shall join in your revels, your sports, and your wiles,

And return to me beaming all o'er with your smiles! -

Too blest, if it tells me that, 'mid the gay cheer,

Some kind voice had murmur'd, "I wish he were here!"

Let fate do her worst, there are relics of joy,

Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy;

And which come, in the night-time sorrow and care,

To bring back the features that joy used to wear.

Long, long be my heart with such memories fill'd!

Like the vase in which roses have once been distill'd -

You may break, you may ruin the vase, if you will,

But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.