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University of Virginia Library

The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore

Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes

Moore, Thomas (1779-1852)

I, II.

VOL. I., VOL. II. ODES OF ANACREON. JUVENILE POEMS. POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.

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III, IV.

VOL. III., VOL. IV. CORRUPTION AND INTOLERANCE. THE SCEPTIC. TWOPENNY POST-BAG. SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. IRISH MELODIES. NATIONAL AIRS. SACRED SONGS.

CORRUPTION, AND INTOLERANCE.

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TWOPENNY POST-BAG.

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INTERCEPTED LETTERS, &c.

I.

LETTER I. FROM THE PR*NC*SS CH*RL*E OF W*L*S TO THE LADY B*RB---A ASHL*Y.

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II.

LETTER II. FROM COLONEL M'M---H---N TO G---LD FR---NC---S L---CKIE, ESQ.

III.

LETTER III. FROM G---GE PR---CE R*G---T TO THE E--- OF Y---TH.

IV.

LETTER IV. FROM THE RIGHT HON. P*TR*CK D---GEN---N TO THE RIGHT HON. SIR J*HN N*CH*L.

V.

LETTER V. FROM THE COUNTESS DOWAGER OF C*RK TO LADY ------.

VI.

LETTER VI. FROM ABDALLAH , IN LONDON, TO MOHASSAN, IN ISPAHAN.

VII.

LETTER VII. FROM MESSRS. L---CK---GT---N AND CO. TO ------, ESQ.

VIII.

LETTER VIII. FROM COLONEL TH*M*S TO ------ SK*FF*NGT*N, ESQ.

SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS.

IRISH MELODIES.

V.

VOL. V. EVENINGS IN GREECE. BALLADS, SONGS, MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, ETC. ETC.

VI, VII.

VOL. VI., VOL. VII. LALLA ROOKH. POLITICAL AND SATIRICAL POEMS. THE FUDGE FAMILY IN PARIS. FABLES FOR THE HOLY ALLIANCE. RHYMES ON THE ROAD. AND MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

VIII, IX.

VOL. VIII., VOL. IX THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. MISCELLANEOUS.

X.

VOL. X. THE EPICUREAN. ALCIPHRON.

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29

NE'ER ASK THE HOUR.

Ne'er ask the hour—what is it to us
How Time deals out his treasures?
The golden moments lent us thus,
Are not his coin, but Pleasure's.
If counting them o'er could add to their blisses,
I'd number each glorious second:
But moments of joy are, like Lesbia's kisses,
Too quick and sweet to be reckon'd.
Then fill the cup—what is it to us
How time his circle measures?
The fairy hours we call up thus,
Obey no wand but Pleasure's.

Young Joy ne'er thought of counting hours,
Till Care, one summer's morning,
Set up, among his smiling flowers,
A dial, by way of warning.

30

But Joy loved better to gaze on the sun,
As long as its light was glowing,
Than to watch with old Care how the shadow stole on,
And how fast that light was going.
So fill the cup—what is it to us
How Time his circle measures?
The fairy hours we call up thus,
Obey no wand but Pleasure's.