Clement Clark Moore's Poetry
Clement Clark Moore
Brought to you by the website of Henry Livingston, the author of A Visit From St. Nicholas


THE dreams of Hope that round us play,
And lead along our early youth,
How soon, alas! they fade away
Before the sober rays of Truth.
And yet there are some joys in life
That Fancy's pencil never drew;
For Fancy's self, my own dear wife,
Ne'er dreamt the bliss I owe to you.
You have awaken'd in my breast
Some chords I ne'er before had known;
And you've imparted to the rest
A stronger pulse, a deeper tone.
And e'en the troubles that we find
Our peace oft threat'ning to o'erwhelm,
Like foreign foes, but serve to bind
More close in love our little realm.
I've not forgot the magic hour
When youthful passion first I knew;
When early love was in its flower,
And bright with ev'ry rainbow hue.
Then, fairy visions lightly moved,
And waken'd rapture as they pass'd;
But faith and love, like yours approved,
Give joys that shall for ever last.
A spotless wife's enduring love,
A darling infant's balmy kiss,
Breathe of the happiness above;
Too perfect for a world like this.
These heaven-sent pleasures seem too pure
To take a taint from mortal breath;
For, still unfading, they endure
'Mid sorrow, sickness, pain, and death.
When cruel Palsy's withering blow
Had left my father weak, forlorn,
He yet could weep for joy, to know,
I had a wish'd-for infant born.
And, as he lay in death's embrace,
You saw when last on earth he smil'd;
You saw the ray that lit his face
When he beheld our darling child.
Strange, mingled scene of bliss and pain!
That, like a dream, before us flies;
Where, 'midst illusions false and vain,
Substantial joys are seen to rise.
When to your heart our babes you fold,
With all a mother's joy elate,
I fondly think that I behold
A vision of our future state.
Hope comes, with balmy influence fraught,
To heal the wound that rends my heart,
Whene'er it meets the dreadful thought
That all our earthly ties must part.
Bless'd hope, beyond earth's narrow space,
Within high Heaven's eternal bound,
Again to see your angel face,
With all your cherubs clustering round.
Oh! yes, there are some beams of light
That break upon this world below,
So pure, so steady, and so bright,
They seem from better worlds to flow.
Reflected images are seen
Upon this transient stream of time,
Through mists and shades that intervene,
Of things eternal and sublime.
Then let us rightly learn to know
These heavenly messengers of love:
They teach us whence true pleasures flow,
And win our thoughts to joys above.
And e'en when clouds roll o'er our head,
Still let us turn our longing eyes
To where Eternal Love has spread
The changeless azure of the skies.


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