As Slow Our Ship
As slow our ship her foamy track Against the wind was cleaving, Her trembling pennant still look’d back To that dear isle ’twas leaving. So loath we part from all we love, From all
Tis Sweet to Think
Tis 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 that we love, We’ve but to make love to
Oh! Breathe Not His Name
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
Take Back the Virgin Page
Written on Returning a Blank Book Take back the virgin page, White and unwritten still; Some hand, more calm and sage, The leaf must fill. Thoughts come, as pure as light Pure as even
Twas One of Those Dreams
‘TWAS one of those dreams, that by music are brought, Like a bright summer haze, o’er the poet’s warm thought When, lost in the future, his soul wanders on, And all of this life,
Oh! Doubt Me Not
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. Although this heart was early blown, And fairest hands
Tis Gone, And For Ever
‘Tis gone, and for ever, the light we saw breaking, Like Heaven’s first dawn o’er the sleep of the dead When Man, from the slumber of ages awaking, Look’d upward, and bless’d the pure
Ne'er Ask the Hour
Ne’er ask the hour what is it to us How Time deals out his treasures? The golden moments lent us thus Are not his coin, but Pleasure’s. If counting them o’er could add to
Echo
How sweet the answer Echo makes To music at night, When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes, And far away, o’er lawns and lakes, Goes answering light. Yet Love hath echoes truer far,
While History's Muse
While History’s Muse the memorial was keeping Of all that the dark hand of Destiny weaves, Beside her the Genius of Erin stood weeping, For hers was the story that blotted the leaves. But
How Oft Has the Benshee Cried
How oft has the Benshee cried, How oft has death untied Bright links that Glory wove, Sweet bonds entwined by Love. Peace to each manly soul that sleepeth; Rest to each faithful eye that
Remember Thee!
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
Lalla Rookh
“How sweetly,” said the trembling maid, Of her own gentle voice afraid, So long had they in silence stood, Looking upon that tranquil flood “How sweetly does the moon-beam smile To-night upon yon leafy
When First I Met Thee
When first I met thee, warm and young, There shone such truth about thee, And on thy lip such promise hung, I did not dare to doubt thee. I saw thee change, yet still
Go Where Glory Waits Thee
Go where glory waits thee, But while fame elates thee, Oh! still remember me. When the praise thou meetest To thine ear is sweetest, Oh! then remember me. Other arms may press thee, Dearer