When Thou Shalt Wander. (Sicilian Air.)

When thou shalt wander by that sweet light
    We used to gaze on so many an eve,
When love was new and hope was bright,
    Ere I could doubt or thou deceive--
Oh, then, remembering how swift went by
Those hours of transport, even thou may'st sigh.

Yes, proud one! even thy heart may own
    That love like ours was far too sweet
To be, like summer garments thrown
    Aside, when past the summer's heat;
And wish in vain to know again
Such days, such nights, as blest thee then.

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

Hope Comes Again.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

Thou Lovest No More.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

Epistle Of Condolence. From A Slave-Lord, To A Cotton-Lord.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

When Thou Art Nigh.

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.

The Exile.

Night waneth fast, the morning star
    Saddens with light the glimmering sea,
Whose waves shall soon to realms afar
    Waft me from hope, from love, and thee.
Coldly the beam from yonder sky
    Looks o'er the waves that onward stray;
But colder still the stranger's eye
    To him whose home is far away

Oh, not at hour so chill and bleak,
    Let thoughts of me come o'er thy breast;
But of the lost one think and speak,
    When summer suns sink calm to rest.
So, as I wander, Fancy's dream
    Shall bring me o'er the sunset seas,
Thy look in every melting beam,
    Thy whisper in each dying breeze.

Thomas Moore

When Thou Art Nigh.

When thou art nigh, it seems
    A new creation round;
The sun hath fairer beams,
    The lute a softer sound.
Tho' thee alone I see,
    And hear alone thy sigh,
'Tis light, 'tis song to me,
    Tis all--when thou art nigh.

When thou art nigh, no thought
    Of grief comes o'er my heart;
I only think--could aught
    But joy be where thou art?
Life seems a waste of breath,
    When far from thee I sigh;
And death--ay, even death
    Were sweet, if thou wert nigh.

Thomas Moore

When Twilight Dews.

When twilight dews are falling soft
    Upon the rosy sea, love,
I watch the star, whose beam so oft
    Has lighted me to thee, love.
And thou too, on that orb so dear,
    Dost often gaze at even,
And think, tho' lost for ever here,
    Thou'lt yet be mine in heaven.

There's not a garden walk I tread,
    There's not a flower I see, love,
But brings to mind some hope that's fled,
    Some joy that's gone with thee, Love.
And still I wish that hour was near,
    When, friends and foes forgiven,
The pains, the ills we've wept thro' here
    May turn to smiles in heaven.

Thomas Moore

Go, Then--'Tis Vain. (Sicilian Air.)

Go, then--'tis vain to hover
    Thus round a hope that's dead;
At length my dream is over;
    'Twas sweet--'twas false--'tis fled!
Farewell! since naught it moves thee,
    Such truth as mine to see--
Some one, who far less loves thee,
    Perhaps more blest will be.

Farewell, sweet eyes, whose brightness
    New life around me shed;
Farewell, false heart, whose lightness
    Now leaves me death instead.
Go, now, those charms surrender
    To some new lover's sigh--
One who, tho' far less tender,
    May be more blest than I.

Thomas Moore

What Shall I Sing Thee?

TO ----.


What shall I sing thee? Shall I tell
Of that bright hour, remembered well
As tho' it shone but yesterday,

When loitering idly in the ray
Of a spring sun I heard o'er-head,
My name as by some spirit said,
And, looking up, saw two bright eyes
    Above me from a casement shine,
Dazzling my mind with such surprise
    As they, who sail beyond the Line,
Feel when new stars above them rise;--
And it was thine, the voice that spoke,
    Like Ariel's, in the mid-air then;
And thine the eye whose lustre broke--
    Never to be forgot again!

What shall I sing thee? Shall I weave
A song of that sweet summer-eve,
(Summer, of which the sunniest part
Was that we, each, had in the heart,)
When thou and I, and one like the...

Thomas Moore

Here, Take My Heart.

Here, take my heart--'twill be safe in thy keeping,
    While I go wandering o'er land and o'er sea;
Smiling or sorrowing, waking or sleeping,
    What need I care, so my heart is with thee?

If in the race we are destined to run, love,
    They who have light hearts the happiest be,
Then happier still must be they who have none, love.
    And that will be my case when mine is with thee.

It matters not where I may now be a rover,
    I care not how many bright eyes I may see;
Should Venus herself come and ask me to love her,
    I'd tell her I couldn't--my heart is with thee.

And there let it lie, growing fonder and, fonder--
    For, even should Fortune turn truant to me,
Why, let her go--I've a treasure beyond her,
    As long as my heart'...

Thomas Moore