Fly Not Yet

I was looking through some old files, and ran across a poem I’d collected for a piece I wrote a while back, O’Carolan’s Seduction. I’ll be giving that another look-see and getting it ready to republish. In the course of locating things, I found this piece, by Thomas Moore. It was published in his collection, Irish Minstrelsy (1806), and he set it to the tune Planxty Kelly by Turlough O’Carolan. A planxty is a tune written as thanks; this one is also known as Hugh Kelly. Funny, so is the lead character of the story. 😉

Fly Not Yet

Fly not yet; ’tis just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flow’r
That scorns the eye of vulgar light,
Begins to bloom for sons of night
And maids who love the moon…
‘Twas but to bless these hours of shade
That beauty and the moon was made:
‘Tis then their soft attractions glowing,
Set the tides and goblets flowing
Oh! stay! Joy so seldom weaves a chain
Like this tonight, that oh! ’tis pain
To break its links so soon…

Fly not yet; the fount that play’d
In times of old thro’ Ammon’s shade,
Tho’ icy cold by day it ran,
Yet still, like souls of mirth, began
to burn when night was near…
And thus should woman’s hearts and looks
At noon be cold as winter brooks,
Nor kindle till the night, returning,
Brings their genial hour for burning.
Oh! stay! Oh, stay!
When did morning ever break,
And find such beaming eyes awake
As those that sparkle here?…

Now I have to find someone singing it.

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