by Thomas Moore
'Twas a new feeling - something more
Than we had dared to own before,
Which then we hid not, which then we hid not.
We saw it in each other's eye,
And wish'd, in every murmur'd sigh,
To speak, but did not; to speak, but did not.
She felt my lips' impassion'd touch -
'Twas the first time I dared so much,
And yet she chid not, and yet she chid not;
But whisper'd o'er my burning brow,
O! do you doubt I love you now?
Sweet soul! I did not; sweet soul! I did not.
Warmly I felt her bosom thrill,
I press'd it closer, closer still,
Though gently bid not, though gently bid not;
Till - oh! the world hath seldom heard
Of lovers, who so nearly err'd,
And yet who did not, and yet who did not.
Source:The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore.
Copyright undated, very old
The Walter Scott Publishing Co. Ltd.