Kalliope
→
Engelske digtere
→
Thomas Moore
→
Titler
Thomas Moore
(1779–1852)
Værker
Digttitler
Førstelinjer
Henvisninger
Biografi
Søg
A
A Ballad: The Lake of the Dismal Swamp
A Night Thought
A Reflection at Sea
A Study From The Antique
A Temple to Friendship
After the Battle
All that’s bright must fade
Alone in Crowds to Wander On
An Ode upon Morning
And Doth Not a Meeting Like This
And now with all thy pencil’s truth
Arm’d with hyacinthine rod
As a Beam O’er the Face of the Waters May Glow
As, by his Lemnian forge’s flame
As late I sought the spangled bowers
As Slow Our Ship
As Vanquish’d Erin
At the Mid Hour of Night
Avenging and Bright
B
Before the Battle
Behold, the young, the rosy Spring
Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms
Black And Blue Eyes
Bright Be Thy Dreams
Buds of roses, virgin flowers
By That Lake, Whose Gloomy Shore
C
Cloris and Fanny
Come O’er the Sea
Come, Rest in this Bosom
Come, Send Round the Wine
Count me, on the summer trees
Cupid once upon a bed
D
Dear Fanny
Dear Harp of my Country
Desmond’s Song
Did Not
Dost Thou Remember
Drink of This Cup
Drink To Her
E
Echo
Elegiac Stanzas
Erin, Oh Erin
Erin! The Tear and the Smile in Thine Eyes
Eveleen’s Bower
F
Fairest! Put on a While
Fanny, Dearest
Fanny of Timmol
Farewell! — But Whenever You Welcome the Hour
Fill the Bumper Fair
Flow on, Thou Shining River
Fly not thus my brow of snow
Fly Not Yet
Forget Not the Field
From This Hour the Pledge is Given
G
Give me, my love, that billing kiss
Give me the harp of epic song
Go Where Glory Waits Thee
Go where glory waits thee
H
Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded
Here recline you, gentle maid
How am I to punish thee
How Dear to Me the Hour
How I love the festive boy
How Oft Has the Benshee Cried
How shall I woo
I
I care not for the idle state
I know that Heaven hath sent me here
I often wish this languid lyre
I pray thee, by the gods above
I pray you, let us roam no more
[I pray you, let us roam no more]
I pray you, let us roam no more
[I pray you, let us roam no more]
I Saw From the Beach
I saw the smiling bard of pleasure
I Saw Thy Form in Youthful Prime
I will, I will; the conflict’s past
I Wish I Was By That Dim Lake
I’d Mourn the Hopes
I’ve a Secret to Tell Thee
If hoarded gold possess’d the power
If Thou’lt Be Mine
Ill Omens
Illustration of a Bore
In the Morning of Life
Intended for Nea
It Is Not the Tear At This Moment Shed
L
Lay His Sword By His Side
Lesbia Hath a Beaming Eye
Let Erin Remember the Days of Old
Let us drain the nectar’d bowl
Listen to the Muse’s lyre
Little Mary’s Eye
Love and Hope
Love and Hymen
Love and Reason
Love and the Novice
Love and Time
Love Is a Hunter-boy
Love Thee, Dearest? Love Thee?
Love’s Light Summer-Cloud
Love’s Young Dream
Lying
M
My Gentle Harp
My Heart and Lute
N
Nay, Tell Me Not, Dear
Nay, tempt me not to love again
Ne’er Ask the Hour
No, Not More Welcome
Now the star of day is high
O
O’Donohue’s Mistress
Observe when mother earth is dry
Oh! Arranmore, Loved Arranmore
Oh, Banquet Not
Oh! Blame Not the Bard
Oh! Breathe Not His Name
Oh, come to Me When Daylight sets
Oh, Could We Do With This World of Ours
Oh! Doubt Me Not
Oh For the Swords of Former Time
Oh! Had We Some Bright Little Isle of Our Own
Oh! see those cherries
Oh, the Shamrock
Oh, the Sight Entrancing
Oh! Think Not My Spirits Are Always As Light
Oh thou, of all creation blest
Oh, Ye Dead!
On a beautiful East-Indian
On Music
Once in each revolving year
One Bumper at Parting
One day the Muses twined the hands
Q
Quick! We Have But a Second
R
Reason and Folly and Beauty, they say
Remember Thee!
Rich and Rare Were the Gems She Wore
Rondeau
Row Gently Here
S
Sail On, Sail On
Sculptor, wouldst thou glad my soul
Shall the Harp Then Be Silent
She is Far From the Land
She Sung of Love
Sic Juvat Perire
Silence is in Our Festal Halls
Sing — Sing — Music Was Given
Sing, Sweet Harp
So Warmly We met
Song
Song of Innisfail
Song of the Battle Eve
St. Senanus and the Lady
Strew me a fragrant bed of leaves
Sublime Was the Warning
Sweet Innisfallen
T
Take Back The Sigh
Take Back the Virgin Page
Tell me, gentle youth, I pray thee
Tell me, why, my sweetest dove
The Catalogue
The Dream of Those Days
The Evening Gun
The Fortune-Teller
[Down in the valley come meet me to-night]
The Fortune-Teller
[Down in the valley come meet me to-night]
The Harp That Once Through Tara’s Halls
The Irish Peasant to his Mistress
The Lake Of The Dismal Swamp
The Legacy
The Light of Other Days
The Meeting of the Waters
The Minstrel Boy
The Mountain Spite
The Night Dance
The Origin of the Harp
The Parallel
The Phrygian rock, that braves the storm
The Prince’s Day
The probability
The Sale of Loves
The Song of Fionnuala
The Song of O’Ruark, Prince of Breffni
The Time I’ve Lost in Wooing
The Wandering Bard
The Wine-Cup is Circling
The women tell me every day
The Young May Moon
Thee, Thee, Only Thee
There Are Sounds of Mirth
There comes a time, a dreary time
They Know Not My Heart
They May Rail at this Life
They tell how Atys, wild with love
This Life Is All Chequer’d With Pleasures and Woes
Thou, whose soft and rosy hues
Though Humble the Banquet
Though the Last Glimpse of Erin With Sorrow I See
Thy harp may sing of Troy’s alarms
Tis Gone, And For Ever
Tis Sweet to Think
Tis the Last Rose of Summer
Tis true, my fading years decline
To ...
[That wrinkle, when first I espied it]
To ...
[When I loved you, I can’t but allow]
To ...: Sweet Lady, Look Not Thus Again
To a sleeping maid
To all that breathe the air of heaven
To Cara, After An Interval Of Absence
To Julia Weeping
To Ladies’ Eyes
To Phillis
To the Pretty Little Mrs. —
Twas in a mocking dream of night
Twas night, and many a circling bowl
Twas noon of night, when round the pole
Twas One of Those Dreams
V
Vulcan! hear your glorious task
W
War Song
We May Roam Through This World
We read the flying courser’s name
Weep On, Weep On
What the Bee Is To the Floweret
When ’midst the gay I meet
When Bacchus, Jove’s immortal boy
When Cold in the Earth
When First I Met Thee
When He Who Adores Thee
When Love was a Child
When my thirsty soul I steep
When on the Lip the Sigh delays
When Spring adorns the dewy scene
When the wine-cup is smiling before us
When Twilight Dews
When wine I quaff, before my eyes
Whene’er I See Those Smiling Eyes
Where is the Slave
While Gazing on the Moon’s Light
While History’s Muse
While our rosy fillets shed
Will you come to the bower?
Within this goblet, rich and deep
Wreath the Bowl
Y
Yes — loving is a painful thrill
Yes, be the glorious revel mine
You read it in these spell-bound eyes
You Remember Ellen