Come, Rest in this Bosom
Come, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer,
Though the herd have fled from thee, thy home is still here;
Here still is the smile, that no cloud can o'ercast,
And a heart and a hand all thy own to the last.
Oh! what was love made for, if 'tis not the same
Through joy and through torment, through glory and shame?
I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart?
I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art.
Thou hast call'd me thy angel in moments of bliss,
And thy Angel I'd be, 'mid the horrors of this, --
Through the furnace, unshrinking, thy steps to pursue,
And shield thee, and save thee, -- or perish there too!
Thomas Moore's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Come, Rest in this Bosom by Thomas Moore )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Welcoming The New Year, Edgar Albert Guest
- My Proud Pa, Edgar Albert Guest
- Strange, Edgar Albert Guest
- Troubles, Edgar Albert Guest
- Answering The Grumblers, Edgar Albert Guest
- change, Ashutosh ramnarayan Prasad K ..
- khuda, Ashutosh ramnarayan Prasad K ..
- lachari, Ashutosh ramnarayan Prasad K ..
- flower, Ashutosh ramnarayan Prasad K ..
- hasrat, Ashutosh ramnarayan Prasad K ..