Oh, Days Of Youth. (French Air.)
By Thomas Moore
Oh, days of youth and joy, long clouded, Why thus for ever haunt my view? When in the grave your light lay shrouded, Why did not Memory die there too? Vainly doth hope her strain now sing me, Telling of joys that yet remain-- No, never more can this life bring me One joy that equals youth's sweet pain. Dim lies the way to death before me, Cold winds of Time blow round my brow; Sunshine of youth! that once fell o'er me, Where is your warmth, your glory now? 'Tis not that then no pain could sting me; 'Tis not that now no joys remain; Oh, 'tis that life no more can bring me One joy so sweet as that worst pain.
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Oh, days of youth and joy, long clouded,..."
Thomas Moore's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Oh, Days Of Youth. (French Air.)"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...