Author Thomas Moore I THOUGHT this heart enkindled lay On Cupid's burning shrine: I thought he stole thy heart away, And placed it near to mine. I saw thy heart begin to melt, Like ice before the sun; Till both a glow congenial felt, And mingled into one! Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 3 (2 votes) Rate Log in or register to post comments