April is National Poetry Month, and to celebrate, I'm sharing a poem a day.
"Quantum Est Quod Desit" (rough translation: "to the brink but no further") by Thomas Moore (1779-1852)
'Twas a new feeling - something more
Than we had dar'd to own before,
Which then we hid not;
We saw it in each other's eye,
And wish'd in every broken sigh
To speak, but did not!
She felt my lips' impassion'd touch;
'Twas the first time I dar'd so much,
And yet, she chid not;
But whisper'd o'er my burning brow,
'Oh! do you doubt I love you now?'
Sweet soul! I did not!
Warmly I felt her bosom thrill,
I prest it closer, closer still,
Though gently bid not;
Till - oh! the world hath seldom heard
Of lovers, who so nearly err'd,
And yet who - did not!
I prest it closer, closer still,
Though gently bid not;
Till - oh! the world hath seldom heard
Of lovers, who so nearly err'd,
And yet who - did not!
R