Thomas Moore ( )


TotheFire‑Fly


At morning, when the earth and sky
Are glowing with the light of spring,
We see thee not, thou humble fly!
Nor think upon thy gleaming wing.

But when the skies have lost their hue,
And sunny lights no longer play,
Oh then we see and bless thee too
For sparkling o'er the dreary way.

Thus let me hope, when lost to me
The lights that now my life illume,
Some milder joys may come, like thee,
To cheer, if not to warm, the gloom!



(Translations into another languages):

Thomas Moore's other poems:
  1. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 15
  2. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 64
  3. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 75
  4. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 46
  5. From The Odes of Anacreon. Ode 38


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