by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852)

While gazing on the moon's light
Language: English 
While gazing on the moon's light,
  A moment from her smile I turned,
To look at orbs, that, more bright,
  In lone and distant glory burned.
        But too far
        Each proud star,
  For me to feel its warming flame;
        Much more dear
        That mild sphere.
  Which near our planet smiling came;
Thus, Mary, be but thou my own;
  While brighter eyes unheeded play,
I'll love those moonlight looks alone,
  That bless my home and guide my way.

The day had sunk in dim showers,
  But midnight now, with lustre meet.
Illumined all the pale flowers,
  Like hope upon a mourner's cheek.
        I said (while
        The moon's smile
  Played o'er a stream, in dimpling bliss,)
        "The moon looks
        "On many brooks,
  "The brook can see no moon but this;"
And thus, I thought, our fortunes run,
  For many a lover looks to thee,
While oh! I feel there is but one,
  One Mary in the world for me.

Confirmed with The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Collected by Himself with Explanatory Notes with a Biographical Sketch by William M. Rossetti, Project Gutenberg.

Note: the following footnote appears in the cited edition by the author, for stanza 2, line 10: This image was suggested by the following thought, which occurs somewhere In Sir William Jones's works: "The moon looks upon many night- flowers, the night flower sees but one moon."


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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2025-08-25
Line count: 28
Word count: 157