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The Meeting of the Waters
by Sir Thomas Moore
There is not in the wide world and valley so
sweet
As the vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet;
Oh! The last rays of feeling and life must depart,
Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.
Yet was not that Nature had shed o’er the scene
Her purest of crystal and brightest of green;
Twas not her soft magic of streamlet or hill,
Oh! no, - it was something more exquisite still.
Twas that friends, the beloved of my bosom,
were near,
Who made every scene of enchantment more dear,
And who felt how the best charms of nature improve,
When we see them reflected from looks that we love.
Sweet vale of Avoca! How calm could I rest!
In thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best.
Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease,
And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace.
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