Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded

By Thomas Moore

Has sorrow thy young days shaded
As clouds o'er the morning fleet?
Too fast have those young days faded,
That even in sorrow were sweet?
Does Time with his cold wing wither
Each feeling that once was dear?
Come, child of misfortune! come hither,
I'll weep with thee, tear for tear.

Has love to that soul so tender
Been like our Lagenian mine,
Where sparkles of golden splendour
All over the surface shine?
But if in pursuit we go deeper,
Allur'd by the gleam that shone,
Ah! false as the dream of the sleeper,
Like Love, the bright ore is gone.

Has Hope, like the bird in the story,
That flitted from tree to tree
With the talisman's glittering glory --
Has Hope been that bird to thee?
On branch after branch alighting,
The gem did she still display,
And when nearest and most inviting,
Then waft the fair gem away?

If thus the sweet hours have fleeted,
When Sorrow herself look'd bright;
If thus the fond hope has cheated,
That led thee along so light;
If thus, too, the cold world wither
Each feeling that once was dear:
Come, child of misfortune! come hither,
I'll weep with thee, tear for tear.