Thomas Moore

Humility, that low, sweet root,
From which all heavenly virtues shoot.

Humility, that low, sweet root,
From which all heavenly virtues shoot.

Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print.

Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print.

To live with them is far less sweet,
Than to remember thee!

To live with them is far less sweet,
Than to remember thee!

Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun,
Grow pure by being purely shone upon.

Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun,
Grow pure by being purely shone upon.

With what a deep devotedness of woe
I wept thy absence--o'er and o'er again
Thinking of thee, read more

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!