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With what a deep devotedness of woe
I wept thy absence—o'er and o'er again
Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain,
And memory, like a drop that, night and day,
Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!

— Thomas Moore Lalla Rookh (1817)

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More quotes by Thomas Moore

But there's nothing half so sweet in life
As love's young dream.

Irish Melodies (1807)

Though an angel should write, still 't is devils must print.

Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed (1919)

And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers
Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.

Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed (1919)

Just as the mind the erring sense believes,
The erring mind, in turn, the sense deceives.

Go where glory waits thee,
But while fame elates thee,
Oh! still remember me!

Irish Melodies (1807)

All Thomas Moore quotes →

Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Thomas Moore (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.