The Charms Of Women

by Thomas Moore

When life looks lone and dreary,
What light can dispel the gloom?
When Time's swift wing grows weary,
What charm can refresh his plume?
'Tis woman, whose sweetness beameth
O'er all that we feel or see;
And if man of heaven e'er dreameth,
'Tis when he thinks purely of thee,
O woman!

Let conquerors fight for glory,
Too dearly the meed they gain;
Let patriots live in glory --
Too often they die in vain;
Give kingdoms to those who choose 'em,
This world can offer to me
No throne like beauty's bosom,
No Freedom like serving thee,
O woman!