Since First Thy Word. (Air.--Nicholas Freeman.)

Since first Thy Word awaked my heart,
Like new life dawning o'er me,
Where'er I turn mine eyes, Thou art,
    All light and love before me.
Naught else I feel, or hear or see--
    All bonds of earth I sever--
Thee, O God, and only Thee
    I live for, now and ever.

Like him whose fetters dropt away
    When light shone o'er his prison,^[1]
My spirit, touched by Mercy's ray,
    Hath from her chains arisen.
And shall a soul Thou bidst be free,
    Return to bondage?--never!
Thee, O God, and only Thee
    I live for, now and ever.

Thomas Moore

Thomas Moore was an Irish poet, singer, and songwriter, celebrated for his Irish Melodies, which are now considered a staple of Irish cultural heritage. Born on May 28, 1779, in Dublin, Ireland, Moore gained fame for his lyrical songs, many of which were set to traditional Irish tunes. Not only a poet, but he was also a staunch advocate of Irish nationalism, often incorporating themes of national identity and resistance into his work. Moore's influential collection 'Irish Melodies' became popular in both Ireland and Britain and helped to define the literary output of the era. He passed away on February 25, 1852, but his legacy in Irish literature and music endures.

Thomas Moore

Oh Fair! Oh Purest! Saint Augustine To His Sister. (Air.--Moore)

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

The Dream Of Home.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

When First I Met Thee.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

The Sceptic, A Philosophical Satire.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Awake, Arise, Thy Light Is Come. (Air.--Stevenson.)

Awake, arise, thy light is come;^[1]
    The nations, that before outshone thee,
Now at thy feet lie dark and dumb--
    The glory of the Lord is on thee!

Arise--the Gentiles to thy ray,
    From every nook of earth shall cluster;
And kings and princes haste to pay
    Their homage to thy rising lustre.^[2]

Lift up thine eyes around, and see
    O'er foreign fields, o'er farthest waters,
Thy exiled sons return to thee,
    To thee return thy home-sick daughters.^[3]

And camels rich, from Midians' tents,
    Shall lay their treasures down before thee;
And Saba bring her gold and scents,
    To fill thy air and sparkle o'er thee.^[4]

See, who are these that, like a cloud,^[5]
    Are ...

Thomas Moore

Thou Art, O God.

(Air.--Unknown.)^[1]


        "The day is thine, the night is also thine: thou hast prepared the light and the sun.

        "Thou hast set all the borders of the earth: thou hast made summer and winter."
        --Psalm lxxiv. 16, 17.


Thou art, O God, the life and light
    Of all this wondrous world we see;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,
    Are but reflections caught from Thee.
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine,
    And all things fair and bright are Thine!

When Day, with farewell beam, delays
    Among the opening clouds of Even,
And we can almost think we gaze
    Thro' golden vistas into Heaven--
Those hues, that make the Sun's decline
So soft, so radiant, LORD! are Thine.

When Night, with ...

Thomas Moore

Thee, Thee, Only Thee.

The dawning of morn, the daylight's sinking,
The night's long hours still find me thinking
        Of thee, thee, only thee.
When friends are met, and goblets crowned,
    And smiles are near, that once enchanted,
Unreached by all that sunshine round,
    My soul, like some dark spot, is haunted
        By thee, thee, only thee.

Whatever in fame's high path could waken
My spirit once, is now forsaken
        For thee, thee, only thee.
Like shores, by which some headlong bark
    To the ocean hurries, resting never,
Life's scenes go by me, bright or dark,
    I know not, heed not, hastening ever
        To thee, thee, only thee.

I have not a joy but of thy bringing,
And pain itself seems sweet when springing
        From thee, thee, only t...

Thomas Moore

Tis All For Thee.

If life for me hath joy or light,
        'Tis all from thee,
My thoughts by day, my dreams by night,
        Are but of thee, of only thee.
Whate'er of hope or peace I know,
My zest in joy, my balm in woe,
To those dear eyes of thine I owe,
        'Tis all from thee.

My heart, even ere I saw those eyes,
        Seemed doomed to thee;
Kept pure till then from other ties,
        'Twas all for thee, for only thee.
Like plants that sleep till sunny May
Calls forth their life my spirit lay,
Till, touched by Love's awakening ray,
        It lived for thee, it lived for thee.

When Fame would call me to her heights,
        She speaks by thee;
And dim would shine her proudest lights,
        Unshared by thee, unshared by thee.
Whene'...

Thomas Moore

From This Hour The Pledge Is Given.

From this hour the pledge is given,
    From this hour my soul is thine:
Come what will, from earth or heaven,
    Weal or woe, thy fate be mine.
When the proud and great stood by thee,
    None dared thy rights to spurn;
And if now they're false and fly thee,
    Shall I, too, basely turn?
No;--whate'er the fires that try thee,
    In the same this heart shall burn.

Tho' the sea, where thou embarkest,
    Offers now no friendly shore,
Light may come where all looks darkest,
    Hope hath life when life seems o'er.
And, of those past ages dreaming,
    When glory decked thy brow,
Oft I fondly think, tho' seeming
    So fallen and clouded now,
Thou'lt again break forth, all beaming,--
    None so bright, so blest as thou!

Thomas Moore

Rhymes On The Road. Extract I. Geneva.

View of the Lake of Geneva from the Jura.^[1]--Anxious to reach it before the Sun went down.--Obliged to proceed on Foot.--Alps.--Mont Blanc.--Effect of the Scene.


'Twas late--the sun had almost shone
His last and best when I ran on
Anxious to reach that splendid view
Before the daybeams quite withdrew
And feeling as all feel on first
    Approaching scenes where, they are told,
Such glories on their eyes will burst
    As youthful bards in dreams behold.

'Twas distant yet and as I ran
    Full often was my wistful gaze
Turned to the sun who now began
    To call in all his out-posts rays,
And form a denser march of light,
Such as beseems a hero's flight.
Oh, how I wisht for JOSHUA'S power,
To stay the brightness of that hour...

Thomas Moore