All Poems

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Shall the Harp then be silent, when he who first gave
To our country a name, is withdrawn from all eyes?
Shall a Minstrel of Erin stand mute by the grave
Where the first -- where the last of her Patriots lies?

Sail On, Sail On

© Thomas Moore

Sail on, sail on, thou fearless bark --
Where'er blows the welcome wind,
It cannot lead to scenes more dark,
More sad than those we leave behind.

Rich and Rare Were the Gems She Wore

© Thomas Moore

Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore;
But oh! her beauty was far beyond
Her sparkling gems, or snow-white wand.

Remember Thee!

© Thomas Moore

Remember thee! yes, while there's life in this heart,
It shall never forget thee, all lorn as thou art;
More dear in thy sorrow, thy gloom, and thy showers,
Than the rest of the world in their sunniest hours.

Quick! We Have But a Second

© Thomas Moore

Quick! we have but a second,
Fill round the cup while you may;
For time, the churl, hath beckon'd,
And we must away, away!

Quantum Est Quod Desit

© Thomas Moore

'Twas a new feeling - something more
Than we had dar'd to own before,
Which then we hid not;
We saw it in each other's eye,
And wish'd in every broken sigh
To speak, but did not!

Country Towns

© Kenneth Slessor

Country towns, with your willows and squares,
And farmers bouncing on barrel mares
To public houses of yellow wood
With "1860" over their doors,
And that mysterious race of Hogans
Which always keeps the General Stores….

One Bumper at Parting

© Thomas Moore

One bumper at parting! -- though many
Have circled the board since we met,
The fullest, the saddest of any
Remains to be crown'd by us yet.

On Music

© Thomas Moore

When through life unblest we rove,
Losing all that made life dear,
Should some notes we used to love,
In days of boyhood, meet our ear,

Omens

© Thomas Moore

When daylight was yet sleeping under the pillow,
And stars in the heavens still lingering shone,
Young Kitty, all blushing, rose up from her pillow,
The last time she e'er was to press it alone.

Oh, Ye Dead!

© Thomas Moore

Oh, ye Dead! oh, ye Dead! whom we know by the light you give
From your cold gleaming eyes, though you move like men who live,
Why leave you thus your graves,
In far off fields and waves,

Oh, the Sight Entrancing

© Thomas Moore

Oh, the sight entrancing,
When morning's beam is glancing
O'er files array'd
With helm and blade,

Oh, the Shamrock

© Thomas Moore

Through Erin's Isle
To sport awhile
As Love and Valour wander'd,
With Wit, the sprite,

Oh, Could We Do With This World of Ours

© Thomas Moore

Oh, could we do with this world of ours
As thou dost with thy garden bowers,
Reject the weeds and keep the flowers,
What a heaven on earth we'd make it!

Oh, Banquet Not

© Thomas Moore

Oh, banquet not in those shining bowers,
Where Youth resorts, but come to me,
For mine's a garden of faded flowers,
More fit for sorrow, for age, and thee.

Oh! Think Not My Spirits Are Always As Light

© Thomas Moore

Oh! think not my spirits are always as light,
And as free from a pang as they seem to you now,
Nor expect that the heart-beaming smile of to-night
Will return with to-morrow to brighten my brow.

Oh! Had We Some Bright Little Isle of Our Own

© Thomas Moore

Oh! had we some bright little isle of our own,
In a blue summer ocean, far off and alone,
Where a leaf never dies in the still blooming bowers,
And the bee banquets on through a whole year of flowers;

Oh! Doubt Me Not

© Thomas Moore

Oh! doubt me not -- the season
Is o'er when Folly made me rove,
And now the vestal, Reason,
Shall watch the fire awaked by Love.

Oh! Breathe Not His Name

© Thomas Moore

Oh! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade,
Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid:
Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears that we shed,
As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head.

Oh! Blame Not the Bard

© Thomas Moore

Oh! blame not the bard, if he fly to the bowers
Where Pleasure lies, carelessly smiling at Fame;
He was born for much more, and in happier hours
His soul might have burn'd with a holier flame.