Oh! the days are gone, when Beauty bright <br />My heart's chain wove; <br />When my dream of life, from morn till night, <br />Was love, still love. <br />New hope may bloom, <br />And days may come, <br />Of milder calmer beam, <br />But there's nothing half so sweet in life <br />As love's young dream: <br />No, there's nothing half so sweet in life <br />As love's young dream. <br /> <br />Though the bard to purer fame may soar, <br />When wild youth's past; <br />Though he win the wise, who frown'd before, <br />To smile at last; <br />He'll never meet <br />A joy so sweet, <br />In all his noon of fame, <br />As when first he sung to woman's ear <br />His soul-felt flame, <br />And, at every close, she blush'd to hear <br />The one loved name. <br /> <br />No, - that hallow'd form is ne'er forgot <br />Which first love traced; <br />Still it lingering haunts the greenest spot <br />On memory's waste. <br />'Twas odour fled <br />As soon as shed; <br />'Twas morning's winged dream; <br />'Twas a light, tht ne'er can shine again <br />On life's dull stream: <br />Oh! 'twas light that n'er can shine again <br />On life's dull stream.<br /><br />Thomas Moore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-s-young-dream-2/
