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A poem by Thomas Moore

Impromptu, On Leaving Some Friends

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Title:     Impromptu, On Leaving Some Friends
Author: Thomas Moore [More Titles by Moore]

_o dulces comitum valete coetus_!
CATULLUS.


No, never shall my soul forget
The friends I found so cordial-hearted;
Dear shall be the day we met,
And dear shall be the night we parted.

If fond regrets, however sweet,
Must with the lapse of time decay,
Yet stall, when thus in mirth you meet,
Fill high to him that's far away!

Long be the light of memory found
Alive within your social glass;
Let that be still the magic round.
O'er which Oblivion, dare not pass.





[The end]
Thomas Moore's poem: Impromptu, On Leaving Some Friends

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