Hush, Sweet Lute.
By Thomas Moore
Hush, sweet Lute, thy songs remind me Of past joys, now turned to pain; Of ties that long have ceased to bind me, But whose burning marks remain. In each tone, some echo falleth On my ear of joys gone by; Every note some dream recalleth Of bright hopes but born to die. Yet, sweet Lute, though pain it bring me, Once more let thy numbers thrill; Tho' death were in the strain they sing me, I must woo its anguish still. Since no time can e'er recover Love's sweet light when once 'tis set,-- Better to weep such pleasures over, Than smile o'er any left us yet.
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"Hush, sweet Lute, thy songs remind me..."
Thomas Moore's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Hush, Sweet Lute."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...