by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852)

When twilight dews are falling soft
Language: English 
When twilight dews are falling soft
   Upon the rosy sea, love,
I watch the star, whose beam so oft
   Has lighted me to thee, love.
And thou too, on that orb so dear,
   Dost often gaze at even,
And think, though lost for ever here,
   Thou'lt yet be mine in heaven.

There's not a garden walk I tread,
   There's not a flower I see, love,
But brings to mind some hope that's fled,
   Some joy that's gone with thee, love.
And still I wish that hour was near,
   When, friends and foes forgiven,
The pains, the ills we've wept through here,
   May turn to smiles in heaven.

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Researcher for this text: Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2013-05-09
Line count: 16
Word count: 107