Aubrey Thomas de Vere
Irish poet and critic
- Look up! the proof is round you written large;
Your Faith is in the balance wanting found;
Your shipless seas confess it; bridgeless streams;
Your wasted wealth of ore, and moor, and bay.
Beneath the Upas shade of Faith depraved
All things lie dead -- wealth, comfort, freedom, power.
- "The Sisters; or, Weal in Woe: An Irish Tale" in The Sisters, Inisfail, and Other Poems (1861), pp. 3-42.
- Softly, O midnight hours!
Move softly o'er the bowers
Where lies in happy sleep a girl so fair:
For ye have power, men say,
Our hearts in sleep to sway
And cage cold fancies in a moonlight snare.
- Song. Softly, O Midnight Hours; reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 721.
- The warrior for the True, the Right,
Fights in Love's name;
The love that lures thee from that fight
Lures thee to shame:
That love which lifts the heart, yet leaves
The spirit free,—
That love, or none, is fit for one
Man-shaped like thee.
- Miscellaneous Poems, Song; reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 484.
- When I was young, I said to Sorrow,
"Come and I will play with thee!"
He is near me now all day,
And at night returns to say,
"I will come again to-morrow—
I will come and stay with thee."
- Song, When I was Young I said to Sorrow; reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 736.