As Slow Our Ship

Poem By Thomas Moore

As slow our ship her foamy track
Against the wind was cleaving,
Her trembling pennant still look'd back
To that dear isle 'twas leaving.
So loath we part from all we love,
From all the links that bind us;
So turn our hearts as on we rove,
To those we've left behind us.

When, round the bowl, of vanish'd years
We talk, with joyous seeming, --
With smiles that might as well be tears,
So faint, so sad their beaming;
While memory brings us back again
Each early tie that twined us,
Oh, sweet's the cup that circles then
To those we've left behind us.

And when, in other climes, we meet
Some isle, or vale enhanting,
Where all looks flowery, wild, and sweet,
And nought but love is wanting;
We think how great had been our bliss,
If Heaven had but assign'd us
To live and die in scenes like this,
With some we've left behind us!

As travellers oft look back at eve,
When eastward darkly going,
To gaze upon that light they leave
Still faint behind them glowing --
So, when the close of pleasure's day
To gloom hath near consign'd us,
We turn to catch one fading ray
Of joy that's left beind us.

Comments about As Slow Our Ship

Truth. A universal truth. Being universal does not cheapen the sentiment. We've all longed for a time, a place, we would like to return to... it's natural for man to want that more perfect place, when life had not scarred us, when dreams were still possible, and emotions shone like stars in the sky pure and elegant.


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I've oft been told by learned friars,
That wishing and the crime are one,
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Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
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Live fairy-gifts fading away,

Alone In Crowds To Wander On

Alone in crowds to wander on,
And feel that all the charm is gone
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Shed round us once, where'er we roved --

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Said Cotton to Corn, t'other day,
As they met and exchang'd salute-
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Poor Cotton, half famish'd on foot) :

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Come with me, and we will blow
Lots of bubbles, as we go;
Bubbles bright as ever Hope
Drew from fancy -- or from soap;