On The Death Of A Lady,
By Thomas Moore
Sweet spirit! if thy airy sleep Nor sees my tears not hears my sighs, Then will I weep, in anguish weep, Till the last heart's drop fills mine eyes. But if thy sainted soul can feel, And mingles in our misery; Then, then my breaking heart I'll seal-- Thou shalt not hear one sigh from me. The beam of morn was on the stream, But sullen clouds the day deform; Like thee was that young, orient beam, Like death, alas, that sullen storm! Thou wert not formed for living here, So linked thy soul was with the sky; Yet, ah, we held thee all so dear, We thought thou wert not formed to die.
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Sweet spirit! if thy airy sleep..."
"On The Death Of A Lady," is a quintessential example of Thomas Moore's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...