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Thomas Moore - The Fortune-Teller
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Down in the valley come meet me to-night, 
   And I`ll tell you your fortune truly 
As ever `twas told, by the new-moon`s light, 
   To a young maiden, shining as newly. 

But, for the world, let no one be nigh, 
   Lest haply the stars should deceive me, 
Such secrets between you and me and the sky 
   Should never go farther, believe me. 

If at that hour the heavens be not dim, 
   My science shall call up before you 
A male apparition — the image of him 
   Whose destiny `tis to adore you. 

And if to that phantom you`ll be kind, 
   So fondly around you he`ll hover, 
You`ll hardly, my dear, any difference find 
   `Twixt him and a true living lover. 

Down at your feet, in the pale moonlight, 
   He`ll kneel, with a warmth of devotion — 
An ardour, of which such an innocent sprite 
   You`d scarcely believe had a notion. 

What other thoughts and events may arise, 
   As in destiny`s book I`ve not seen them, 
Must only be left to the stars and your eyes 
   To settle, ere morning, between them.
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