Thomas Moore ( )

From Irish Melodies. 99. Twas One of Those Dreams

TWAS one of those dreams, that by music are brought,
Like a bright summer haze, oer the poets warm thought 
When, lost in the future, his soul wanders on,
And all of this life, but its sweetness, is gone.

The wild notes he heard oer the water were those
He had taught to sing Erins dark bondage and woes,
And the breath of the bugle now wafted them oer
From Dinis green isle, to Glenas wooded shore.

He listend  while, high oer the eagles rude nest,
The lingering sounds on their way loved to rest;
And the echoes sung back from their full mountain quire,
As if loath to let song to enchanting expire.

It seemd as if every sweet note that died here
Was again brought to life in some airier sphere,
Some heaven in those hills, where the soul of the strain
That had ceased upon earth was awaking again!

Oh forgive, if, while listening to music, whose breath
Seemd to circle his name with a charm against death,
He should feel a proud spirit within him proclaim,
"Even so shalt thou live in the echoes of Fame:

"Even so, though thy memory should now die away,
Twill be caught up again in some happier day,
And the hearts and the voices of Erin prolong,
Through the answering Future, thy name and thy song."

Thomas Moore's other poems:
  1. TotheFire‑Fly
  2. The Lake of the Dismal Swamp
  3. Bright Be Thy Dreams
  4. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 49
  5. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 50

 . Poem to print (Print)

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