Thomas Moore

(28 May 1779 – 25 February 1852 / Dublin)

At The Mid Hour Of Night

Poem by Thomas Moore

At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly
To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye;
And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air,
To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there,
And tell me our love is remember'd, even in the sky.

Then I sing the wild song 'twas once such pleasure to hear!
When our voices commingling breathed, like one, on the ear;
And, as Echo far off through the vale my said orison rolls,
I think, oh my love! 'tis thy voice from the Kingdom of Souls,
Faintly answering still the notes that once were so dear.

Comments about At The Mid Hour Of Night by Thomas Moore

  • Susan WilliamsSusan Williams (3/3/2016 3:00:00 PM)

    Oh, this was so romantically lovely- we women respond to these kind of sentiments by getting all goo-goo eyed but ohhhhhhhhhhh, how lovely are these words and sentiments(Report)Reply

    19 person liked.
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  • Mohammed Asim Nehal (3/3/2016 1:17:00 PM)

    WOw Kingdom of souls........(Report)Reply

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
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Read poems about / on: remember, song, sky, night, love, life, star

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

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