Poem by Thomas Moore

From “Irish Melodies”. 81. If Thou’lt Be Mine

If thou’lt be mine, the treasures of air,
  	Of earth, and sea, shall lie at thy feet;
Whatever in Fancy’s eye looks fair,
  	Or in Hope’s sweet music sounds most sweet,
Shall be ours – if thou wilt be mine, love!

Bright flowers shall bloom wherever we rove,
  	A voice divine shall talk in each stream;
The stars shall look like worlds of love,
  	And this earth be all one beautiful dream
    	In our eyes – if thou wilt be mine, love!

And thoughts, whose source is hidden and high,
  	Like streams, that come from heavenward hills,
Shall keep our hearts, like meads, that lie
  	To be bathed by those eternal rills,
  	Ever green, if thou wilt be mine, love!

All this and more the Spirit of Love
  	Can breathe o’er them, who feel his spells;
That heaven, which forms his home above,
  	He can make on earth, wherever he dwells,
    	As thou’lt own – if thou wilt be mine, love!

1. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 54
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 46
3. From “Irish Melodies”. 113. Alone in Crowds to Wander On
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 17
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 15

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