Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
Live fairy-gifts fading away,
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,
That the fervor and faith of a soul may be known,
To which time will but make thee more dear!
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close,
As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets
The same look which she turned when he rose!
I wholeheartrdly agree with the two comments submitted. For me the last two lines epitomises what love should be. The poem is just beautiful and also a beautiful song, sung I may add in virtually every language. Sounds good in chinese. I am proud to have been born in the land of Thomas Moore, sadly there the similarity ends.
I have to agree with Bryan. I've been aware of bits of this for years, but only found it in the Norton Anthology on 20 12 06. Shakespeare would have been hard pressed to surpass this. The richness of the language is astonishing. These people of Ireland have something very special in their hearts when so many of them can weave such beauty with words. This is pure sorcery. Gandalf would be in awe!
I can't believe no one has commented on this poem. I've read many poems and in my opinion this is about the very best I've ever read. Moore says everything about love, new love, and fading love that is worthwhile saying- and he says it beautifully, vibrantly and memorably in 2 stanzas! Amazing! !
Lovely. I especially enjoyed the last lines: No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close, As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets The same look which she turned when he rose! Extremely well-crafted. One of the best poems ever.
A profound love poem insightfully brought forth from deep recesses of the heart.
A husband is telling his wife that although her beauty has been marred by smallpox, he loves her still.
A nice sentiment, but I would never refer to my wife as the dear ruin. And that line To which time will but make thee more dear needs a grammatical clean-up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The kind of love we yearn for- -it is not a love dependent upon youth and its soft, unsagging skin. It is a love of the soul that is portrayed here and gives us women hope that even modern man might be intelligent enough and capable enough of such love. Of course, it goes for women too but I think most women are already capable of seeing beneath the outside appearances.