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The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore

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Take back the sigh, thy lips of art In passion's moment breathed to me; Yet, no—it must not, will not part, 'Tis now the life-breath of my heart, And has become too pure for thee.

Take back the kiss, that faithless sigh With all the warmth of truth imprest; Yet, no—the fatal kiss may lie, Upon thy lip its sweets would die, Or bloom to make a rival blest.

Take back the vows that, night and day, My heart received, I thought, from thine; Yet, no—allow them still to stay, They might some other heart betray, As sweetly as they've ruined mine.

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