Thomas Moore ( )


From Irish Melodies. 75. As Slow Our Ship


          AS slow our ship her foamy track
                Against the wind was cleaving,
          Her trembling pennant still lookd back
                To that dear isle twas leaving.
          So loath we part from all we love,
                From all the links that bind us;
          So turn our hearts as on we rove,
                To those weve left behind us.

          When, round the bowl, of vanishd years
                We talk, with joyous seeming, 
          With smiles that might as well be tears,
                So faint, so sad their beaming;
          While memory brings us back again
                Each early tie that twined us,
          Oh, sweets the cup that circles then
                To those weve left behind us.

          And when, in other climes, we meet
                Some isle, or vale enhanting,
          Where all looks flowery, wild, and sweet,
                And nought but love is wanting;
          We think how great had been our bliss,
                If Heaven had but assignd us
          To live and die in scenes like this,
                With some weve left behind us!

          As travellers oft look back at eve,
                When eastward darkly going,
          To gaze upon that light they leave
                Still faint behind them glowing 
          So, when the close of pleasures day
                To gloom hath near consignd us,
          We turn to catch one fading ray
                Of joy thats left beind us.



Thomas Moore's other poems:
  1. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 46
  2. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 60
  3. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 9
  4. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 50
  5. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 74


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