Thomas Moore

Thomas Moore (May 28, 1779 – February 25, 1852) was an Irish poet and hymnist, now best remembered for the lyrics of The Last Rose of Summer.

'Tis the last rose of Summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone. ~ The Last Rose of Summer

For the 16th century martyr and Saint with a similar name, see: Thomas More

Quotes

• Faintly as tolls the evening chime,
  Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time.
  • Poems Relating to America. A Canadian Boat Song (1805), st. 1.

• Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast,
  The rapids are near, and the daylight's past.
  • A Canadian Boat-Song (1805), st. 1.

• Just as the mind the erring sense believes,
  The erring mind, in turn, the sense deceives.
  • The Sceptic: A Philosophical Satire (London: J. Carpenter, 1809), p. 14.

• Self is the medium thro' which Judgment's ray
  Can seldom pass without being turned astray.
  • The Sceptic: A Philosophical Satire (London: J. Carpenter, 1809), p. 15.

• Patience lingers o'er the weedy shore,
  And, mutely waiting till the storm be o'er,
  Turns to young Hope, who still directs his eye
  To some blue spot, just breaking in the sky!
  • The Sceptic: A Philosophical Satire (London: J. Carpenter, 1809), p. 26.

• A Persian's heaven is easily made:
  'Tis but black eyes and lemonade.
  • Intercepted Letters; or The Two-Penny Post Bag, VI (1813).

• Oft, in the stilly night,
  Ere Slumber's chain has bound me,
  Fond Memory brings the light
  Of other days around me;
  The smiles, the tears,
  Of boyhood's years,
  The words of love then spoken;
  The eyes that shone,
  Now dimm'd and gone,
  The cheerful hearts now broken!
  • National Airs, Oft in the Stilly Night, st. 1 (1815).

• I feel like one,
  Who treads alone
  Some banquet-hall deserted,
  Whose lights are fled,
  Whose garlands dead,
  And all but he departed!
  • Oft in the Stilly Night, st. 2 (1815).

• What though youth gave love and roses,
  Age still leaves us friends and wine.
  • National Airs, Spring and Autumn, st. 1 (1815).

• All that's bright must fade,—
  The brightest and the fleetest;
  All that's sweet was made,
  But to be lost when sweetest.
  • "All that's Bright Must Fade" (Indian Air), National Airs (1823).

• Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea!
  Jehovah has triumphed—his people are free.
  • Sacred Songs, Sound the Loud Timbrel, st. 1.

• Oh, call it by some better name,
  For friendship sounds too cold.
  • Ballads and Songs. Oh, Call It by Some Better Name, st. 1.

• "Come, come," said Tom's father, "at
    your time of life,
  There's no longer excuse for thus
    playing the rake--
  It is time you should think, boy, of
    taking a wife."
  "Why, so it is father--whose wife
    shall I take?"
  • A Joke Versified

Irish Melodies (1807–1834)

Go where glory waits thee,
But while fame elates thee,
Oh! still remember me!

• Go where glory waits thee,
  But while fame elates thee,
  Oh! still remember me!
  • Go Where Glory Waits Thee, st. 1.

• Oh! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade,
  Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid.
  • Oh Breathe Not His Name, st. 1.

• And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls,
  Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.
  • Oh Breathe Not His Name, st. 1.

• The harp that once through Tara's halls
  The soul of music shed,
  Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls
  As if that soul were fled.
  So sleeps the pride of former days,
  So glory's thrill is o'er;
  And hearts that once beat high for praise
  Now feel that pulse no more.
  • The Harp That Once Through Tara's Halls, st. 1.

• Life is a waste of wearisome hours
  Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns;
  And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers,
  Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.
  • O! think not my spirits are always as light, st. 1

• Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
  And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.
  • Rich and Rare Were the Gems She Wore, st. 1.

• Believe me, if all those endearing young charms
  Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
  Were to change by to-morrow and fleet in my arms,
  Like fairy gifts fading away.
  Thou wouldst still be adored as this moment thou art,
  Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
  And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart,
  Would entwine itself verdantly still.
  • Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms, st. 1.

• No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
  But as truly loves on to the close,
  As the sun-flower turns on her god when he sets
  The same look which she turn'd when he rose.
  • Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms, st. 2

There's nothing half so sweet in life
As love's young dream.

• But there's nothing half so sweet in life
  As love's young dream.
  • Love's Young Dream', st. 1.

• The tribute most high to a head that is royal,
  Is love from a heart that loves liberty too.
  • The Prince's Day, st. 2

• Eyes of unholy blue.
  • By That Lake Whose Gloomy Shore, st. 2.

• 'Tis the last rose of Summer,
  Left blooming alone;
  All her lovely companions
  Are faded and gone.
  • The Last Rose of Summer, st. 1.

• When true hearts lie wither'd
  And fond ones are flown,
  Oh, who would inhabit
  This bleak world alone?
  • The Last Rose of Summer, st. 3.

• The Minstrel Boy to the war is gone,
  In the ranks of death you'll find him;
  His father's sword he has girded on,
  And his wild harp slung behind him.
  • The Minstrel Boy, st. 1.

• And the best of all ways
  To lengthen our days
  Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!
  • The Young May Moon, st. 1.

• You may break, you may shatter the vase, if you will,
  But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
  • Farewell! But Whenever You Welcome the Hour, st. 3.

• No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us
  All earth forgot, and all heaven around us.
  • Come O'er the Sea, st. 2.

• The light that lies
  In woman's eyes,
  Has been my heart's undoing.
  • The Time I've Lost in Wooing, st. 1.

• My only books
  Were woman's looks,
  And folly's all they've taught me.
  • The Time I've Lost in Wooing, st. 1.

• Love, nursed among pleasures, is faithless as they,
  But the love born of Sorrow, like Sorrow, is true.
  • In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown, st. 2

• Ask a woman's advice, and, whate'er she advise,
  Do the very reverse and you're sure to be wise.
  • How To Make a Good Politician.

• Accurst is the march of that glory
  Which treads o'er the hearts of the free.
  • Forget not the field where they perish'd, st. 4

• Man for his glory
  To ancestry flies;
  But Woman's bright story
  Is told in her eyes.
  • Desmond's Song, st. 4

Lalla Rookh (1817)

Part I-III: The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan

• This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas,
  The past, the future,—two eternities!
  • Part II.

• But Faith, fanatic Faith, once wedded fast
  To some dear falsehood, hugs it to the last.
  • Part II.

• There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream,
  And the nightingale sings round it all the day long;
  In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream,
  To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song.
  • Part II.

• Some flow'rets of Eden ye still inherit,
  But the trail of the serpent is over them all.
  • Part II.

• Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun,
  Grow pure by being purely shone upon.

Part IV: Paradise and the Peri

• One morn a Peri at the gate
  Of Eden stood disconsolate.

• Take all the pleasures of all the spheres,
  And multiply each through endless years,—
  One minute of heaven is worth them all.

• But the trail of the serpent is over them all.

Part V-VIII: The Fire-Worshippers

• Oh, ever thus, from childhood's hour,
  I 've seen my fondest hopes decay;
  I never loved a tree or flower
  But 't was the first to fade away.
  I never nurs'd a dear gazelle,
  To glad me with its soft black eye,
  But when it came to know me well
  And love me, it was sure to die.

• Paradise itself were dim
  And joyless, if not shared with him!
  • Part VI.

• It is only to the happy that tears are a luxury.
  • Part VI.

• Like Dead Sea fruits, that tempt the eye,
  But turn to ashes on the lips.

• Oh for a tongue to curse the slave
  Whose treason, like a deadly blight,
  Comes o'er the councils of the brave,
  And blasts them in their hour of might!

• Beholding heaven, and feeling hell.

• As sunshine broken in the rill,
  Though turned astray, is sunshine still.

• Farewell, farewell to thee, Araby's daughter!
  Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark sea.

Part IX: The Light of the Harem

• Alas! how light a cause may move
  Dissension between hearts that love!
  Hearts that the world in vain had tried,
  And sorrow but more closely tied;
  That stood the storm when waves were rough,
  Yet in a sunny hour fall off,
  Like ships that have gone down at sea
  When heaven was all tranquillity.

• Love on through all ills, and love on till they die.

• And oh if there be an Elysium on earth,
  It is this, it is this!

Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919)

Quotes reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919).

• When Time who steals our years away
  Shall steal our pleasures too,
  The mem'ry of the past will stay,
  And half our joys renew.
  • Song, from Juvenile Poems.

• Weep on! and as thy sorrows flow,
  I 'll taste the luxury of woe.
  • Anacreontic.

• Where bastard Freedom waves
  The fustian flag in mockery over slaves.
  • To the Lord Viscount Forbes, written from the City of Washington.

• How shall we rank thee upon glory's page,
  Thou more than soldier, and just less than sage?
  • To Thomas Hume.

• I knew, by the smoke that so gracefully curl'd
  Above the green elms, that a cottage was near;
  And I said, "If there's peace to be found in the world,
  A heart that was humble might hope for it here."
  • Ballad Stanzas.

• The minds of some of our statesmen, like the pupil of the human eye, contract themselves the more, the stronger light there is shed upon them.
  • Preface to Corruption and Intolerance.

• Like a young eagle who has lent his plume
  To fledge the shaft by which he meets his doom,
  See their own feathers pluck'd to wing the dart
  Which rank corruption destines for their heart.
  • Corruption.

• There was a little man, and he had a little soul;
  And he said, Little Soul, let us try, try, try!
  • Little Man and Little Soul.

• Who ran
  Through each mode of the lyre, and was master of all.
  • On the Death of Sheridan.

• Whose wit in the combat, as gentle as bright,
  Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade.
  • On the Death of Sheridan.

• Good at a fight, but better at a play;
  Godlike in giving, but the devil to pay.
  • On a Cast of Sheridan's Hand.

• Though an angel should write, still 't is devils must print.
  • The Fudges in England, Letter iii.

• Fly not yet; 't is just the hour
  When pleasure, like the midnight flower
  That scorns the eye of vulgar light,
  Begins to bloom for sons of night
  And maids who love the moon.
  • Fly not yet.

• Oh stay! oh stay!
  Joy so seldom weaves a chain
  Like this to-night, that oh 't is pain
  To break its links so soon.
  • Fly not yet.

• When did morning ever break,
  And find such beaming eyes awake?
  • Fly not yet.

• And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers
  Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.
  • Oh think not my Spirits are always as light.

• There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet
  As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet.
  • The Meeting of the Waters.

• Oh, weep for the hour
  When to Eveleen's bower
  The lord of the valley with false vows came.
  • Eveleen's Bower.

• Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side
  In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree?
  • Come, send round the Wine.

• No, the heart that has truly lov'd never forgets,
  But as truly loves on to the close;
  As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets
  The same look which she turn'd when he rose.
  • Believe me, if all those endearing young Charms.

• The moon looks
  On many brooks,
  "The brook can see no moon but this."
  • While gazing on the Moon's Light.

• And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen,
  The maiden herself will steal after it soon.
  • Ill Omens.

• 'T is sweet to think that where'er we rove
  We are sure to find something blissful and dear;
  And that when we 're far from the lips we love,
  We've but to make love to the lips we are near.
  • 'T is sweet to think.

• 'T is believ'd that this harp which I wake now for thee
  Was a siren of old who sung under the sea.
  • The Origin of the Harp.

• To live with them is far less sweet
  Than to remember thee.
  • I saw thy Form.

• Thus, when the lamp that lighted
  The traveller at first goes out,
  He feels awhile benighted,
  And looks around in fear and doubt.
  But soon, the prospect clearing,
  By cloudless starlight on he treads,
  And thinks no lamp so cheering
  As that light which Heaven sheds.
  • I'd mourn the Hopes.

• I know not, I ask not, if guilt 's in that heart,
  I but know that I love thee whatever thou art.
  • Come, rest in this Bosom.

• To live and die in scenes like this,
  With some we 've left behind us.
  • As slow our Ship.

• Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious, and free,
  First flower of the earth and first gem of the sea.
  • Remember Thee.

• Those evening bells! those evening bells!
  How many a tale their music tells
  Of youth and home, and that sweet time
  When last I heard their soothing chime!
  • Those evening Bells.

• As half in shade and half in sun
  This world along its path advances,
  May that side the sun's upon
  Be all that e'er shall meet thy glances!
  • Peace be around Thee.

• If I speak to thee in friendship's name,
  Thou think'st I speak too coldly;
  If I mention love's devoted flame,
  Thou say'st I speak too boldly.
  • How shall I woo?

• A friendship that like love is warm;
  A love like friendship, steady.
  • How shall I woo?

• The bird let loose in Eastern skies,
  Returning fondly home,
  Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies
  Where idle warblers roam;
  But high she shoots through air and light,
  Above all low delay,
  Where nothing earthly bounds her flight,
  Nor shadow dims her way.
  • Oh that I had Wings.

• This world is all a fleeting show,
  For man's illusion given;
  The smiles of joy, the tears of woe,
  Deceitful shine, deceitful flow,—
  There's nothing true but Heaven.
  • This World is all a fleeting Show.

• As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean
  Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see,
  So deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion,
  Unheard by the world, rises silent to Thee.
  
  As still to the star of its worship, though clouded,
  The needle points faithfully o'er the dim sea,
  So dark when I roam in this wintry world shrouded,
  The hope of my spirit turns trembling to Thee.
  • The Heart's Prayer.

• Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish;
  Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.
  • Come, ye Disconsolate.

• 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.
  • When Twilight Dews.

• I give thee all,—I can no more,
  Though poor the off'ring be;
  My heart and lute are all the store
  That I can bring to thee.
  • My Heart and Lute.

• Who has not felt how sadly sweet
  The dream of home, the dream of home,
  Steals o'er the heart, too soon to fleet,
  When far o'er sea or land we roam?
  • The Dream of Home.

• To Greece we give our shining blades.
  • Evenings in Greece, First Evening.

• When thus the heart is in a vein
  Of tender thought, the simplest strain
  Can touch it with peculiar power.
  • Evenings in Greece, First Evening.

• If thou would'st have me sing and play
  As once I play'd and sung,
  First take this time-worn lute away,
  And bring one freshly strung.
  • If Thou would'st have Me sing and play.

• To sigh, yet feel no pain;
  To weep, yet scarce know why;
  To sport an hour with Beauty's chain,
  Then throw it idly by.
  • The Blue Stocking.

• Ay, down to the dust with them, slaves as they are!
  From this hour let the blood in their dastardly veins,
  That shrunk at the first touch of Liberty's war,
  Be wasted for tyrants, or stagnate in chains.
  • On the Entry of the Austrians into Naples (1821).

• Humility, that low, sweet root
  From which all heavenly virtues shoot.
  • The Loves of the Angels, The Third Angel's Story.

Quotes about Thomas Moore

• The falling of fountains—the slight summer rain—
  The voice of the dove, were less sweet than thy strain;
  Till stirred with delight, would her exquisite wings
  Beat time on the west wind, to echo thy strings.
  • Letitia Elizabeth Landon, Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap book, 1839 (1838), 'Thomas Moore, Esq.'

External links

• Works by Thomas Moore at Project Gutenberg