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 wings of starry gloom,
    O'ershadows all the earth and skies,
Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume
    Is sparkling with unnumbered eyes--
That sacred gloom, those fires divine,
So grand, so countless, LORD! are Thine.

When youthful Spring around us breathes,
    Thy Spirit warms her fragrant sigh;
And every flower the Summer wreaths
    Is born beneath that kindling eye.
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are Thine.

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

My Harp Has One Unchanging Theme. (Swedish Air.)

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

Thoughts On Mischief.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

When The Sad Word. By Paul, The Silentiary.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

The Devil Among The Scholars, A Fragment.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

English

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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

Behold The Sun. (Air.--Lord Mornington.)

Behold the Sun, how bright
From yonder East he springs,
As if the soul of life and light
Were breathing from his wings.

So bright the Gospel broke
Upon the souls of men;
So fresh the dreaming world awoke
In Truth's full radiance then.

Before yon Sun arose,
Stars clustered thro' the sky--
But oh how dim, how pale were those,
To His one burning eye!

So Truth lent many a ray,
    To bless the Pagan's night--
But, Lord, how weak, how cold were they
    To Thy One glorious Light!

Thomas Moore

Light.

First-born of the creating Voice!
Minister of God's spirit, who wast sent
To wait upon Him first, what time He went
Moving about 'mid the tumultuous noise
Of each unpiloted element
Upon the face of the void formless deep!
Thou who didst come unbodied and alone,
Ere yet the sun was set his rule to keep,
Or ever the moon shone,
Or e'er the wandering star-flocks forth were driven!
Thou garment of the Invisible, whose skirt
Falleth on all things from the lofty heaven!
Thou Comforter, be with me as thou wert
When first I longed for words, to be
A radiant garment for my thought, like thee.

We lay us down in sorrow,
Wrapt in the old mantle of our mother Night;
In vexing dreams we 'strive until the morrow;
Grief lifts our eyelids up--and lo, the light!...

George MacDonald

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

Paraphrases From Scripture. PSALM lxxiv. 16, 17.

    The day is thine, the night also is 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.

My God! all nature owns thy sway,
Thou giv'st the night, and thou the day!
When all thy lov'd creation wakes,
When morning, rich in lustre breaks,
And bathes in dew the op'ning flower,
To thee we owe her fragrant hour;
And when she pours her choral song,
Her melodies to thee belong!

Or when, in paler tints array'd,
The evening slowly spreads her shade;
That soothing shade, that grateful gloom,
Can more than day's enliv'ning bloom
Still every fond, and vain desire,
And calmer, purer, thoughts inspire;
From earth the pensive spirit...

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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