Oh! Doubt Me Not

By Thomas Moore

Oh! doubt me not -- the season
Is o'er when folly made me rove,
And now the vestal Reason
Shall watch the fire awak'd by Love.
Although this heart was early blown,
And fairest hands disturb'd the tree,
They only shook some blossoms down,
Its fruit has all been kept for thee.
Then doubt me not -- the season
Is o'er, when folly made me rove,
And now the vestal Reason
Shall watch the fire awak'd by Love.

And though my lute no longer
May sing of passion's ardent spell,
Oh! trust me all the stronger,
I feel the bliss I do not tell.
The bee through many a garden roves,
And sings his lay of courtship o'er,
But when he finds the flower he loves,
He settles there, and hums no more.
Then doubt me not -- the reason
Is o'er, when folly kept me free,
And now the vestal Reason,
Shall guard the flame awak'd by thee.