John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.
Page 520
| Thomas Moore. (1779–1852) (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 touch’d 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 Eveleen’s bower The lord of the valley with false vows came. |
| Eveleen’s 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 lov’d 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 turn’d when he rose. |
| Believe me, if all those endearing young Charms. |