Did Not
by Thomas Moore (1779-1852)

T was a new feeling – something more
Than we had dared to own before,
Which then we hid not;
We saw it in each other’s eye,
And wished, in every half-breathed sigh,
To speak, but did not.

She felt my lips impassioned touch-
’Twas the first time I dared so much,
And yet she chid not;
But whispered o’er my burning brow,
Oh, do you doubt I love you now?
Sweet soul! I did not.

Warmly I felt her bosom thrill,
I pressed it closer, closer still,
Though gently bid not;
Till – oh! The world hath seldom heard
Of lovers, who so nearly erred,
and yet, who did not.