Thomas Moore, the nineteenth century...
Illustration
Thomas Moore, the nineteenth century poet, was married to a beautiful young woman to whom he was totally devoted. Shortly after they were married Moore was called away on business that lasted for a long time. When he returned home he found the doctor waiting on the doorstep with terrible news. His beautiful wife had contracted smallpox and the disease had left her scarred and ugly. She had commanded that the shutters be drawn and that her husband never be allowed to see her again. Thankful that his bride was still alive, Moore rushed upstairs, heedless of his wife's request. He burst into her room and started to light the lamps. His wife cried out in surprise and begged him not to. "Go!" she pleaded. "Please go. This is the greatest gift I can give to you now." Moore reluctantly left the room and went down to his study where he sat down to write. From his mind and pen came the lyrics and melody of a song that is still heard today. The next morning he mounted the stairs and entered his wife's room. "Are you awake?" he asked. "I am," she replied softly. "But you must not ask to see me. You must not press me, Thomas." "I will sing to you then," he said, and he began his song.
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms
Which I gaze on so fondly today.
Were to change by tomorrow and fleet in my arms,
Like fairy gifts fading away,
Thou would'st still be adored as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.
As he finished the song there was a brief pause and then Moore heard his wife get out of bed. Slowly she crossed the room to the window and opened the shutters. And the love in her heart must have burst that day for the husband whose love transcended her looks and appearance. Our incentive to love is not the other person, but the Spirit of Christ which is in us.
-- Lentz
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms
Which I gaze on so fondly today.
Were to change by tomorrow and fleet in my arms,
Like fairy gifts fading away,
Thou would'st still be adored as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.
As he finished the song there was a brief pause and then Moore heard his wife get out of bed. Slowly she crossed the room to the window and opened the shutters. And the love in her heart must have burst that day for the husband whose love transcended her looks and appearance. Our incentive to love is not the other person, but the Spirit of Christ which is in us.
-- Lentz
