I saw thy form in youthful prime, <br />Nor thought that pale decay <br />Would steal before the steps of Time, <br />And waste its bloom away, Mary! <br />Yet still thy features wore that light, <br />Which fleets not with the breath; <br />And life ne'er look'd more truly bright <br />Than in thy smile of death, Mary! <br /> <br />As streams that run o'er golden mines, <br />Yet humbly, calmly glide, <br />Nor seem to know the wealth that shines <br />Within their gentle tide, Mary! <br />So veil'd beneath the simplest guise, <br />Thy radiant genius shone, <br />And that which charm'd all other eyes <br />Seem'd worthless in thy own, Mary! <br /> <br />If souls could always dwell above, <br />Thou ne'er hadst left that sphere; <br />Or could we keep the souls we love, <br />We ne'er had lost thee here, Mary! <br />Though many a gifted mind we meet, <br />Though fairest forms we see, <br />To live with them is far less sweet <br />Than to remember thee, Mary!<br /><br />Thomas Moore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-saw-thy-form-in-youthful-prime/
