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Beautiful Irish Poem

Song

by Thomas Moore
the greatest Irish lyrist
born Dublin, 1779 - died 1852
Have you not seen the timid tear
Steal trembling from mine eye?
Have you not mark'd the flush of fear,
Or caught the murmur'd sigh?
And can you think my love is chill,
Nor fix'd on you alone?
And can you rend, by doubting still,
A heart so much your own?

To you my soul's affections move
Devoutly, warmly, true:
My life has been a task of love,
One long, long thought of you.
If all your tender faith is o'er,
If still my truth you'll try;
Alas! I know but one proof more -
I'll bless your name, and die!

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Permalink Reply by COLLEEN M. on May 19, 2010 at 2:18

Dia Dhuit A Pierre..
I'm speechless! You almost made me cry on this one! I dont know what one hit me hardest? your poem in dedication to me, or my dream and visions of Ireland? This Poem is beautiful and I will cherish it always...when I'm feeling down I will read your poem again and again to lift my spirits and brighten my day! Go raibh míle maith agat!
Is maith liom go fírinneach é! ♥ Go mbeanni Dia Duit♥
♥ Éirinn go Brách ♥

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Permalink Reply by COLLEEN M. on November 25, 2010 at 4:46

Tráthnóna maith duit Pierre!
What a beautiful poem! W.B. Yeats is by far the most wonderful poet around! Awsome taste! He is my favorite of all poets! Just cant get any better then him! Amazing poem Pierre! So love it!
Go mbeannaí Dia duit, mo cara ♥ Slán go fóill! Sláinte
♥ Féadfaidh an grá agus ádh na Gaeilge i gcónaí a bheith in éineacht leat.

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Permalink Reply by COLLEEN M. on December 13, 2010 at 23:43

Dia Dhuit A Pierre, WOW!

Is buaine port ná glór na n-éan,

Is buaine focal ná toice an tsaoil!

(A tune is more lasting than the song of the birds,
And a word more lasting than the wealth of the world!)

Absolutely wonderful! So gentle and loving and full of meaning.

Such a romantic at heart! Don't ever loose that!

♥♥ Dia duit féachaint thar a chosaint agus tú i gcónaí.

♥I gcónaí Agus Go Deo..

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Permalink Reply by COLLEEN M. on December 20, 2010 at 8:58

Dia duit ar maidin!

You are so welcome Pierre. It is a beautiful song and you should

post it here, that is what this here is all about. Awsome stuff, please

finish any other poems that you may have started and have not yet

finished kk??? I love to read all, awsome poetry from all who post

here! As I always say..

♥Is buaine port ná glór na n-éan,

♥Is buaine focal ná toice an tsaoil. .

(A tune is more lasting than the song of the birds,

And a word more lasting than the wealth of the world.)

♥♥Beannacht Dé leat! Forever And Always..

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Permalink Reply by Frank Daub on February 8, 2011 at 23:40

Well, Dia Dhuit a Pierre, my grand friend from liveireland!

Finally back to browsing this incredible discussion chain on poetry (still a tribute to Felicia, who, I read, may be at school in Ireland.)

I've been away so long from the site. Coming home, I see the Poet Laureate of this site is still hard at work creating beautiful and touching poetry. You've a book here, Pierre.

In my life so many things have occurred warranting poetry; to busy with so many beautiful distractions. Recently received my 39th grandchild -- Finn Michael. He was preceded by Luke and Campion (not the same daughter of course).

Another great blessing happened this past August when I was invited out of retirement to teach again. Literature, Logic, American Government, and Speech and Debate. It's a brand new little high school named after Pope John Paul II. What a joy to be in the classroom again.

Just wanted to re-establish contact and tell you how good it is to see your work.

Maybe Walter will see this and rejoin Felicia's grand Discussion started so long ago.

Beauty, peace, and the Trinity be with you, Dear Friend.

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Permalink Reply by Martin A. Egan on December 14, 2010 at 10:19

Lines Written on a Seat
on the Grand Canal, Dublin

'Erected to the memory of Mrs. Dermot O'Brien'


O commemorate me where there is water, 

Canal water, preferably, so stilly

Greeny at the heart of summer. Brother

Commemorate me thus beautifully

Where by a lock niagarously roars

The falls for those who sit in the tremendous silence

Of mid-July.  No one will speak in prose

Who finds his way to these Parnassian islands. 

A swan goes by head low with many apologies, 

Fantastic light looks through the eyes of bridges - 

And look! a barge comes bringing from Athy

And other far-flung towns mythologies.

O commemorate me with no hero-courageous 

Tomb - just a canal-bank seat for the passer-by.