Going back a little further

When I lived with my parents, the nearest, dare I say, town was a little burg with an even smaller library. Oddly enough, they had a very wide variety of books to choose from if not a lot of options. One of the books I picked up was an Oxford book of Irish verse. It was there that I first met Thomas Moore.

Thomas Moore was an amazing poet of the late 18th and early 19th century. He was born in Dublin in 1779 to Roman Catholic parents. Consequently, he also was filled with national pride and became a member of the United Irishmen. His politics led him to turn down a job as "Irish Poet Laureate" as he felt that taking such a post would require him to be less outspoken in that which he believed. The poem that to me was the most beautiful goes by the title "All That's Bright Must Fade".

All that's bright must fade,--
The brightest still the fleetest;
All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest.
Stars that shine and fall;--
The flower that drops in springing;--
These, alas! are types of all
To which our hearts are clinging.
All that's bright must fade,--
The brightest still the fleetest;
All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest?

Who would seek our prize
Delights that end in aching?
Who would trust to ties
That every hour are breaking?
Better far to be
In utter darkness lying,
Than to be blest with light and see
That light for ever flying.
All that's bright must fade,--
The brightest still the fleetest;
All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest!