Like one who, doomed o'er distant seas
His weary path to measure,
When home at length, with favoring breeze,
He brings the far-sought treasure;
His ship, in sight of shore, goes down,
That shore to which he hasted;
And all the wealth he thought his own
Is o'er the waters wasted!
Like him, this heart, thro' many a track
Of toil and sorrow straying,
One hope alone brought fondly back,
Its toil and grief repaying.
Like him, alas, I see that ray
Of hope before me perish,
And one dark minute sweep away
What years were given to cherish.
Like One Who, Doomed.
Thomas Moore
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