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Poem by Thomas Moore


Bright Be Thy Dreams


              Welsh air

Bright be thy dreams -- may all thy weeping
Turn into smiles while thou art sleeping.
May those by death or seas removed,
The friends, who in thy springtime knew thee,
All thou hast ever priz'd or lov'd,
In dreams come smiling to thee!

There may the child, whose love lay deepest,
Dearest of all, come while thou sleepest;
Still as she was -- no charm forgot --
No lustre lost that life had given;
Or, if changed, but changed to what
Thou'lt find her yet in Heaven!



Thomas Moore


Thomas Moore's other poems:
  1. From Irish Melodies. 57. Oh! Had We Some Bright Little Isle of Our Own
  2. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 15
  3. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 32
  4. From Irish Melodies. 113. Alone in Crowds to Wander On
  5. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 34


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