Once again I was out all Tuesday–this time shooting volleyball in Long Beach–and thus couldn’t do the scheduled poetry post; luckily the Astronomical Union has heard this before and rubberstamped the application to extend the day.
So here’s Thomas Moore with. . . well, the title is the first line. It would be so easy to make a funny about romantic lovelorn Irish guys, but. . .
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!