Here's The Bower.
By Thomas Moore
Here's the bower she loved so much, And the tree she planted; Here's the harp she used to touch-- Oh, how that touch enchanted! Roses now unheeded sigh; Where's the hand to wreathe them? Songs around neglected lie; Where's the lip to breathe them? Here's the bower, etc. Spring may bloom, but she we loved Ne'er shall feel its sweetness; Time, that once so fleetly moved, Now hath lost its fleetness. Years were days, when here she strayed, Days were moments near her; Heaven ne'er formed a brighter maid, Nor Pity wept a dearer! Here's the bower, etc.
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"Here's the bower she loved so much,..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Thomas Moore delivers a powerful performance in "Here's The Bower."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...