Thomas Moore Poems

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• Best Thomas Moore Poems
• Thomas Moore Quotes

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by Moore, Thomas

 Night closed around the conqueror's way, 
And lightnings show'd the distant hill, 
Where those who lost that dreadful day 
Stood few and faint, but fearless still. 
The soldier's hope, the patriot's zeal, 
For ever dimm'd, for ever crost -- 
Oh! who shall say what heroes feel, 
When all but life and honour's lost? 

The last sad hour of freedom's...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 I've oft been told by learned friars,
That wishing and the crime are one,
And Heaven punishes desires
As much as if the deed were done.

If wishing damns us, you and I
Are damned to all our heart's content;
Come, then, at least we may enjoy
Some pleasure for our punishment!...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 And doth not a meeting like this make amends 
For all the long years I've been wandering away -- 
To see thus around me my youth's early friends, 
As smiling and kind as in that happy day? 
Though haply o'er some of your brows, as o'er mine, 
The snow -- fall of time may be stealing -- what then?...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 Avenging and bright fall the swift sword of Erin
On him who the brave sons of Usna betray'd! -- 
For every fond eye he hath waken'd a tear in 
A drop from his heart-wounds shall weep o'er her blade. 

By the red cloud that hung over Conor's dark dwelling,
When Ulad's three champions lay sleeping in gore -- 
By the billows...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

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 wouldst 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
 ...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 By that Lake, whose gloomy shore 
Sky-lark never warbles o'er,
Where the cliff hangs high and steep, 
Young Saint Kevin stole to sleep. 
"Here, at least," he calmly said, 
"Woman ne'er shall find my bed." 
Ah! the good Saint little knew 
What that wily sex can do. 

'Twas from Kathleen's eyes he flew -- 
Eyes of most unholy blue! 
She...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 Said Cotton to Corn, t'other day,
As they met and exchang'd salute--
(Squire Corn in his carriage so gay,
Poor Cotton, half famish'd on foot):


"Great Squire, if it isn't uncivil
To hint at starvation before you,
Look down on a poor hungry devil,
And give him some bread, I implore you!"


Quoth Corn, then, in answer to Cotton,
Perceiving he meant to make free --
"Low fellow, you've...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 Some men are born to gather women's tears,
To give a harbour to their timorous fears,
To take them as the dry earth takes the rain,
As the dark wood the warm wind from the plain;
Yet their own tears remain unshed,
Their own tumultuous fears unsaid,
And, seeming steadfast as the forest and the earth
Shaken are they with pain.
They cry for voice as earth...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 Come riddle-me-ree, come riddle-me-ree,
And tell me, what my name may be.
I am nearly one hundred and thirty years old,
And therefore no chicken, as you may suppose; --
Though a dwarf in my youth (as my nurses have told),
I have, ev'ry year since, been outgrowing my clothes;
Till, at last, such a corpulent giant I stand,
That if folks were to furnish me...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 Erin! the tear and the smile in thine eyes 
Blend like the rainbow that hangs in thy skies, 
Shining through sorrow's stream, 
Saddening through pleasure's beam, 
Thy suns with doubtful gleam, 
Weep while they rise. 

Erin, thy silent tear never shall cease, 
Erin, thy languid smile ne'er shall increase, 
Till, like the rainbow's light, 
Thy various tints unite, 
And...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 Oh! weep for the hour, 
When to Eveleen's bower, 
The Lord of the Valley with false vows came; 
The moon hid her light, 
From the heavens that night, 
And wept behind her clouds o'er the maiden's shame. 

The clouds pass'd soon 
From the chaste cold moon, 
And heaven smiled again with her vestal flame; 
But none will see the...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 Fill the bumper fair! 
Every drop we sprinkle 
O'er the brow of Care 
Smooths away a wrinkle. 
Wit's electric flame 
Ne'er so swiftly passes, 
As when through the frame 
It shoots from brimming glasses. 
Fill the bumper fair! 
Every drop we sprinkle 
O'er the brow of Care 
Smooths away a wrinkle. 

Sages can, they say, 
Grasp the lightning's pinions,...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining, 
A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on; 
I came when the sun o'er that beach was declining, 
The bark was still there, but the waters were gone. 

And such is the fate of our life's early promise, 
So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known; 
Each wave...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown, 
And its pleasures in all their new lustre begin, 
When we live in a bright-beaming world of our own, 
And the light that surrounds us is all from within; 
Oh 'tis not, believe me, in that happy time 
We can love, as in hours of less transport we may;...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 I've a secret to tell thee, but hush! not here -- 
Oh! not where the world its vigil keeps: 
I'll seek, to whisper it in thine ear, 
Some shore where the Spirit of Silence sleeps; 
Where Summer's wave unmurmuring dies, 
Nor fay can hear the fountain's gush; 
Where, if but a note her night-bird sighs, 
The rose saith, chidingly,...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 Oh! the days are gone, when Beauty bright 
My heart's chain wove; 
When my dream of life, from morn till night, 
Was love, still love. 
New hope may bloom, 
And days may come, 
Of milder calmer beam, 
But there's nothing half so sweet in life 
As love's young dream: 
No, there's nothing half so sweet in life 
As love's...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 Sublime was the warning that liberty spoke, 
And grand was the moment when Spaniards awoke 
Into life and revenge from the conqueror's chain. 
Oh, Liberty! let not this spirit have rest, 
Till it move, like a breeze, o'er the waves of the west -- 
Give the light of your look to each sorrowing spot, 
Nor, oh, be the Shamrock...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 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,...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet 
As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet;
Oh! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, 
Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart. 

Yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene 
Her purest of crystal and brightest of...Read More

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by Moore, Thomas

 The Minstrel-Boy to the war is gone, 
In the ranks of death you'll find him; 
His father's sword he has girded on, 
And his wild harp slung behind him. 
"Land of song!" said the warrior-bard, 
"Though all the world betrays thee, 
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, 
One faithful harp shall praise thee!" 

The Minstrel fell! --...Read More

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