The poetical works of Thomas Moore |
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VIII . I care not for the idle state , . . . LXXI . A broken cake , with honey sweet . . IX .
I pray thee by the gods above . . . 208 LXXII . With ewenty chords my lyre is hung
X . Tell me how to punish thee . . . . ib . LXXIII . Fare thee well , perfidious maid .
VIII . I care not for the idle state , . . . LXXI . A broken cake , with honey sweet . . IX .
I pray thee by the gods above . . . 208 LXXII . With ewenty chords my lyre is hung
X . Tell me how to punish thee . . . . ib . LXXIII . Fare thee well , perfidious maid .
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Come , tell me where the maid is found loconstancy . . . . Sweetest love ! I ' ll not
forget thee . . . ib . Imitation of Catullus . . . . . . . If I swear by that eye . . . . . ib .
Epigram . . . . . . . . . . . Julia ' s Kiss . . . . . . . . . . . To Julia . . . . . . . To - _ - . . . . . . . . .
Song ...
Come , tell me where the maid is found loconstancy . . . . Sweetest love ! I ' ll not
forget thee . . . ib . Imitation of Catullus . . . . . . . If I swear by that eye . . . . . ib .
Epigram . . . . . . . . . . . Julia ' s Kiss . . . . . . . . . . . To Julia . . . . . . . To - _ - . . . . . . . . .
Song ...
Page xx
The orphans us by our enraged chief ; and all his relations , and have learnt it ,
and still chaunt it over Dermid ' s the maid he loved , attended the minstrel into
the grave . » wide world . For three years there were no tid . « The Fudge Family
in ...
The orphans us by our enraged chief ; and all his relations , and have learnt it ,
and still chaunt it over Dermid ' s the maid he loved , attended the minstrel into
the grave . » wide world . For three years there were no tid . « The Fudge Family
in ...
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tains , with feathers of the Argus pheasant ' s wing ; - reciting the stories of the
cast , on whoin his royal master and the lovely troop of the Tartarian and
Cashmerian had conferred the privilege of being admitted to the maids of honour
, whom ...
tains , with feathers of the Argus pheasant ' s wing ; - reciting the stories of the
cast , on whoin his royal master and the lovely troop of the Tartarian and
Cashmerian had conferred the privilege of being admitted to the maids of honour
, whom ...
Page 3
They wear on earth will serve in Paradise , , At once his faith , his sword , his soul
, obey ' d There to recline among Heaven ' s native maids , The inspiring
summons ; every chosen blade , And crown the Elect with bliss that never fades !
They wear on earth will serve in Paradise , , At once his faith , his sword , his soul
, obey ' d There to recline among Heaven ' s native maids , The inspiring
summons ; every chosen blade , And crown the Elect with bliss that never fades !
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Common terms and phrases
Anacreon ancient angels appears arms beam beauty believe beneath bless bliss bloom blush breath bright brow called charm dark dear death divine dream earth epigram eyes fair fall fancy fear feel felt fire flame flowers give given glow grace hand hath head heart Heaven hope hour kind King kiss learned leave letter light lips live look Lord lost maid meet mind morning nature never night o'er once pass Persian poem poet pure rest rose round seen shade shed shine sigh sleep smile song soon soul spirit star sweet tear tell thee thine thing thou thought true turn wandering warm wave wild wing wish young youth
Popular passages
Page 328 - When hastening fondly home, Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam. But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way.
Page 301 - Though all the world betrays thee, One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, One faithful harp shall praise thee ! " The minstrel fell ! — but the foeman's chain Could not bring his proud soul under ; The harp he lov-ed ne'er spoke again, For he tore its chords asunder ; And said, " No chains shall sully thee, Thou soul of love and bravery ! Thy songs were made for the pure and free, They shall never sound in slavery...
Page 318 - Those joyous hours are passed away ; And many a heart, that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so 'twill be when I am gone ; That tuneful peal will still ring on, While other bards shall walk these dells, And sing your praise, sweet evening bells ! Moore.
Page 303 - Then come o'er the sea, Maiden, with me, Come wherever the wild wind blows ; Seasons may roll, But the true soul Burns the same, where'er it goes. "Was not the Sea Made for the Free, Land for courts and chains alone ? Here we are slaves, But, on the waves, Love and liberty's all our own.
Page 328 - But Thou wilt heal that broken heart, Which, like the plants that throw Their fragrance from the wounded part, Breathes sweetness out of woe.
Page 302 - FAREWELL !— but whenever you welcome the hour That awakens the night-song of mirth in your bower, Then think of the friend who once welcomed it too, And forgot his own griefs to be happy with you.
Page 12 - There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream, And the nightingale sings round it all the day long ; In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream, To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song.
Page 58 - A gem away, that thou hadst sworn Should ever in thy heart be worn. Come, if the love thou hast for me Is pure and fresh as mine for thee, — Fresh as the fountain under ground When first 'tis by the lapwing found.
Page 327 - When night, with wings of starry gloom, O'ershadows all the earth and skies, Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume Is sparkling with unnumbered eyes, That sacred gloom, those fires divine, So grand, so countless. Lord! are thine.
Page 294 - O'er whom a wond'ring world shall weep ! AFTER THE BATTLE. NIGHT clos'd around the conqueror's way, And lightnings show'd the distant hill, Where those who lost that dreadful day, Stood few and faint, but fearless still. The soldier's hope, the patriot's zeal, For ever dimm'd, for ever crost — Oh ! who shall say what heroes feel, When all but life and honour's lost...
Bibliographic information
| Title | The poetical works of Thomas Moore |
| Author | Thomas Moore |
| Publisher | A. and W. Galignani, 1827 |
| Original from | Oxford University |
| Digitized | 12 Apr 2006 |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |