| Fuess and Stearns, comps. The Little Book of Society Verse. 1922. | | | | To Chloe | | By Thomas Moore |
| | | I COULD resign that eye of blue | |
| Howe’er its splendour used to thrill me; | |
| And ev’n that cheek of roseate hue,— | |
| To lose it, Chloe, scarce would kill me. | |
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| That snowy neck I ne’er should miss, | 5 |
| However much I’ve raved about it; | |
| And sweetly as that lip can kiss, | |
| I think I could exist without it. | |
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| In short, so well I’ve learned to fast, | |
| That, sooth my love, I know not whether | 10 |
| I might not bring myself at last, | |
| To—do without you altogether. | | | | |
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