by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852)

A Spirit there is, whose fragrant sigh
Language: English 
A Spirit there is, whose fragrant sigh
  Is burning now through earth and air;
Where cheeks are blushing, the Spirit is nigh,
  Where lips are meeting, the Spirit is there!

His breath is the soul of flowers like these,
  And his floating eyes -- oh! they resemble
Blue water-lilies when the breeze
  Is making the stream around them tremble!

Hail to thee, hail to thee, kindling power!
  Spirit of Love, Spirit of Bliss!
The holiest time is the moonlight hour,
  And there never was moonlight so sweet as this.

    By the fair and brave,
      Who blushing unite,
    Like the sun and wave,
      When they meet at night!

    By the tear that shows
      When passion is nigh,
    As the raindrop flows
      From the heat of the sky!

    By the first love-beat
      Of the youthful heart,
    By the bliss to meet,
      And the pain to part!

    By all that thou hast
     To mortals given,
    Which -- oh! could it last,
      This earth were heaven!

We call thee hither, entrancing Power!
  Spirit of Love! Spirit of Bliss!
Thy holiest time is the moonlight hour,
  And there never was moonlight so sweet as this.

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Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Text added to the website: 2013-01-10 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:05:07
Line count: 32
Word count: 188