Love
Go, Then—'tis Vain
From National Airs
Go, then--'tis vain to hover
Thus round a hope that's dead;
At length my dream is over;
'Twas sweet--'twas false--'tis fled!
Farewell! since naught it moves thee,
Such truth as mine to see--
Some one, who far less loves thee,
Perhaps more blest will be.
Farewell, sweet eyes, whose brightness
New life around me shed;
Farewell, false heart, whose lightness
Now leaves me death instead.
Go, now, those charms surrender
To some new lover's sigh--
One who, tho' far less tender,
May be more blest than I.
Cite this poem
MLA
Moore, Thomas. “Go, Then—'tis Vain.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/moore/295/.
Chicago
Moore, Thomas. “Go, Then—'tis Vain.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/moore/295/.
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