“Here we dwell, in holiest bowers,
Where angels of light o’er our orisans bend;
Where sighs of devotion and breathings of flowers
To heaven in mingled odour ascend.
Do not disturb our calm, oh Love!
So like is thy form to the cherubs above,
It well might deceive such hearts as ours.”
Love stood near the Novice and listen’d,
And Love is no novice in taking a hint;
His laughing blue eyes soon with piety glisten’d;
His rosy wing turn’d to heaven’s own tint.
“Who would have thought,” the urchin cries,
“That Love could so well, so gravely disguise
His wandering wings, and wounding eyes?”
Love now warms thee, waking and sleeping,
Young Novice, to him all thy orisons rise.
He tinges the heavenly fount with his weeping,
He brightens the censer’s flame with his sighs.
Love is the Saint enshrined in thy breast,
And angels themselves would admit such a guest,
If he came to them clothed in Piety’s vest.
(Thomas Moore)
More Poetry from Thomas Moore:
Thomas Moore Poems based on Topics: Love, Light, Youth, Flowers, Heaven, Sleep, Mind, Cry, Thought & Thinking, Sleeping, Guest- As Slow Our Ship (Thomas Moore Poems)
- Drink of This Cup (Thomas Moore Poems)
- How Oft Has the Benshee Cried (Thomas Moore Poems)
- Nay, Tell Me Not, Dear (Thomas Moore Poems)
- Oh, the Shamrock (Thomas Moore Poems)
- Sing, Sweet Harp (Thomas Moore Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Love Poems, Light Poems, Mind Poems, Youth Poems, Heaven Poems, Flowers Poems, Cry Poems, Thought & Thinking Poems, Sleep Poems, Sleeping Poems, Guest PoemsBased on Keywords: glisten, deceive, gravely, odour, enshrined, tinges, censer, novice, wounding, orisons, urchin