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The Time I’ve Lost in Wooing

From The Birmingham Age-Herald, April 4, 1913.
 By Thomas Moore.

 The time I’ve lost in wooing,
 In watching and pursuing
     The light that lies
     In woman’s eyes
 Has been my heart’s undoing.
 Though wisdom oft has sought me
 I scorn’d the lore she brought me,
     My only books
     Were woman’s looks,
 And folly’s all they’ve taught me.
 Her smile when beauty granted,
 I hung with gaze enchanted,
     Like him the sprite
     Whom maids by night
 Oft met in glen that’s haunted.
 Like him, too, beauty won me
 But while her eyes were on me
     If once their ray
     Was turned away
 Oh! Winds could not outrun me.
 And are those follies going?
 And is my proud heart growing
     Too cold or wise
     For brilliant eyes
 Again to set it glowing?
 No—vain, alas! The endeavor
 From bonds so sweet to sever;
     Poor wisdom’s chance
     Against a glance
 Is now as weak as ever.

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