Take Hence The Bowl

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Title:     Take Hence The Bowl
Author: Thomas Moore [More Titles by Moore]

(NEAPOLITAN AIR.)

Take hence the bowl;--tho' beaming
Brightly as bowl e'er shone,
Oh, it but sets me dreaming
Of happy days now gone.
There, in its clear reflection,
As in a wizard's glass,
Lost hopes and dead affection,
Like shades, before me pass.

Each cup I drain brings hither
Some scene of bliss gone by;--
Bright lips too bright to wither,
Warm hearts too warm to die.
Till, as the dream comes o'er me
Of those long vanished years,
Alas, the wine before me
Seems turning all to tears!

[The end]
Thomas Moore's poem: Take Hence The Bowl

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