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• Beholding heaven, and feeling hell. -- Thomas Moore (1779-1852) -- The Fire-Worshippe
• As sunshine broken in the rill, Though turned astray, is sunshine still.
  -- Thomas Moore (1779-1852) -- The Fire-Worshippe...
• Farewell, farewell to thee, Araby's daughter! Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark sea.
  -- Thomas Moore (1779-1852) -- The Fire-Worshippe...
• 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....
• Oh, weep for the hour When to Eveleen's bower The lord of the valley with false vows came.
  -- Thomas Moore (1779-1852) -- Eveleen's Bowe...
• Eyes of unholy blue. -- Thomas Moore (1779-1852) -- By that Lake whose gloomy Shore
• I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed.
  -- Thomas Moore (1779-1852) -- Oft in the Stilly Nigh...
• 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....
• 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.
  -- Thomas Moore (1779-1852) -- Fly not ye...