When he, who adores thee, has left but the name <br />Of his fault and his sorrows behind, <br />Oh! say wilt thou weep, when they darken the fame <br />Of a life that for thee was resign'd? <br />Yes, weep, and however my foes may condemn, <br />Thy tears shall efface their decree; <br />For Heaven can witness, though guilty to them, <br />I have been but too faithful to thee. <br /> <br />With thee were the dreams of my earliest love; <br />Every thought of my reason was thine; <br />In my last humble prayer to the Spirit above, <br />Thy name shall be mingled with mine. <br />Oh! blest are the lovers and friends who shall live <br />The days of thy glory to see; <br />But the next dearest blessing that Heaven can give <br />Is the pride of thus dying for thee.<br /><br />Thomas Moore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-he-who-adores-thee/
