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The Complete Poems of Thomas Moore

by Thomas Moore

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Our First Young Love

Our first young love resembles
  That short but brilliant ray,
Which smiles and weeps and trembles
Thro’ April’s earliest day.
And not all life before us,
  Howe’er its lights may play,
Can shed a lustre o’er us
  Like that first April ray.

Our summer sun may squander
A blaze serener, grander;
      Our autumn beam
      May, like a dream
  Of heaven, die calm away;
But no—let life before us
  Bring all the light it may,
’Twill ne’er shed lustre o’er us
  Like that first youthful ray.

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