John Bartlett (18201905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.
Page 520
Thomas Moore. (17791852) (continued)
5417 Though an angel should write, still t is devils must print.
The Fudges in England. Letter iii.
5418 Fly not yet; t is just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flower That scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sons of night And maids who love the moon.
Fly not yet.
5419 Oh stay! oh stay! Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this to-night, that oh t is pain To break its links so soon.
Fly not yet.
5420 When did morning ever break, And find such beaming eyes awake?
Fly not yet.
5421 And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers Is always the first to be touchd by the thorns.
Oh think not my Spirits are always as light.
5422 Rich and rare were the gems she wore, And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.
Rich and rare were the Gems she wore.
5423 There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet.
The Meeting of the Waters.
5424 Oh, weep for the hour When to Eveleens bower The lord of the valley with false vows came.
Eveleens Bower.
5425 Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree?
Come, send round the Wine.
5426 No, the heart that has truly lovd never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close; As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets The same look which she turnd when he rose.
Believe me, if all those endearing young Charms.