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The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore

Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes
Moore, Thomas (1779-1852)
  
[dedication]

expand sectionI, II. 
VOL. I., VOL. II. ODES OF ANACREON. JUVENILE POEMS. POEMS RELATING TO AMERICA.
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VOL. III., VOL. IV. CORRUPTION AND INTOLERANCE. THE SCEPTIC. TWOPENNY POST-BAG. SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. IRISH MELODIES. NATIONAL AIRS. SACRED SONGS.
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CORRUPTION, AND INTOLERANCE.
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THE SCEPTIC,
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TWOPENNY POST-BAG.
  
DEDICATION.
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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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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.
  
APPENDIX.
 V. 
LETTER V. FROM THE COUNTESS DOWAGER OF C*RK TO LADY ------.
expand sectionVI. 
LETTER VI. FROM ABDALLAH , IN LONDON, TO MOHASSAN, IN ISPAHAN.
 VII. 
LETTER VII. FROM MESSRS. L---CK---GT---N AND CO. TO ------, ESQ.
  
APPENDIX.
 VIII. 
LETTER VIII. FROM COLONEL TH*M*S TO ------ SK*FF*NGT*N, ESQ.
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SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS.
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IRISH MELODIES.
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NATIONAL AIRS.
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SACRED SONGS.
expand sectionV. 
VOL. V. EVENINGS IN GREECE. BALLADS, SONGS, MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, ETC. ETC.
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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.
expand sectionVIII, IX. 
VOL. VIII., VOL. IX THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. SATIRICAL AND HUMOROUS POEMS. THE FUDGES IN ENGLAND. MISCELLANEOUS.
expand sectionX. 
VOL. X. THE EPICUREAN. ALCIPHRON.

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51

OH, THE SIGHT ENTRANCING.

Oh, the sight entrancing,
When morning's beam is glancing
O'er files array'd
With helm and blade,
And plumes, in the gay wind dancing!
When hearts are all high beating,
And the trumpet's voice repeating
That song, whose breath
May lead to death,
But never to retreating.
Oh the sight entrancing,
When morning's beam is glancing
O'er files array'd
With helm and blade,
And plumes, in the gay wind dancing.
Yet, 'tis not helm or feather—
For ask yon despot, whether
52

His plumed bands
Could bring such hands
And hearts as ours together.
Leave pomps to those who need 'em—
Give man but heart and freedom,
And proud he braves
The gaudiest slaves
That crawl where monarchs lead 'em.
The sword may pierce the beaver,
Stone walls in time may sever,
'Tis mind alone,
Worth steel and stone,
That keeps men free for ever.
Oh that sight entrancing,
When the morning's beam is glancing,
O'er files array'd
With helm and blade,
And in Freedom's cause advancing!
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