The works of Thomas Moore, Zväzok 7

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Strana 90 - The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement: each thing's a thief; The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power Have uncheck'd theft.
Strana 142 - But, look, the morn in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill.
Strana 312 - Remembrance will recall the hour When thou alone wert fair! Then talk no more of future gloom ; Our joys shall always last ; For hope shall brighten days to come, And memory gild the past...
Strana 90 - The vapours, which at evening weep, Are beverage to the swelling deep ; And when the rosy sun appears, He drinks the ocean's misty tears. The moon too quaffs her paly stream Of lustre from the solar beam. Then, hence with all your sober thinking ! Since Nature's holy law is drinking ; I'll make the laws of nature mine, And pledge the universe in wine ! ODE XXII.
Strana 313 - Thou'lt still be young for me. And, as thy lips the tear-drop chase Which on my cheek they find, So hope shall steal away the trace...
Strana 118 - THOU, of all creation blest, Sweet insect ! that delight'st to rest Upon the wild wood's leafy tops, To drink the dew that morning drops, And chirp thy song with such a glee, That happiest kings may envy thee ! Whatever decks the velvet field, Whate'er the circling seasons yield, Whatever buds, whatever blows, For thee it buds, for thee it grows. Nor yet art thou the peasant's fear, To him thy friendly notes are dear ; For...
Strana 291 - A REFLECTION AT SEA. SEE how, beneath the moonbeam's smile, Yon little billow heaves its breast, And foams and sparkles for a while, And murmuring then subsides to rest. Thus man, the sport of bliss and care, Rises on Time's eventful sea, And, having swelled a moment there, Thus melts into eternity ! A CHALLENGE.
Strana 139 - Rose, thou art the sweetest flower That ever drank the amber shower ; Rose, thou art the fondest child Of dimpled Spring, the wood-nymph wild. Even .the Gods, who walk the sky, Are amorous of thy scented sigh. Cupid, too, in Paphian shades, His hair with rosy fillet braids, When, with the blushing, sister Graces, The wanton winding dance he traces.
Strana 262 - GOOD reader ! if you e'er have seen, When Phoebus hastens to his pillow, The mermaids, with their tresses green, Dancing upon the western billow : If you have seen, at twilight dim, When the lone spirit's vesper hymn Floats wild along the winding shore, If you have seen, through mist of eve, The fairy train their ringlets weave, Glancing along the spangled green : — If you have seen all this, and more, God bless me, what a deal you've seen ! EPIGRAM, FROM THE FRENCH. "I NEVER give a kiss (says...
Strana 313 - Then fill the bowl — away with gloom ! Our joys shall always last ; For hope shall brighten days to come. And memory gild the past...

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