The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
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III, IV. |
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VI, VII. |
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VIII. |
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XII. |
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IV. |
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VII. |
VIII. |
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IV. |
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VIII. |
IX. |
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XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
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XVI. |
VIII, IX. |
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3. |
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2. |
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IV. |
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VIII. |
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X. |
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The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ||
Till now, the tale was known to few,
But now from lip to lip it flew:—
A youth, the flower of all the band,
Who late had left this sunny shore,
When last he kiss'd that maiden's hand,
Lingering, to kiss it o'er and o'er,
By his sad brow too plainly told
The' ill-omen'd thought which cross'd him then,
That once those hands should lose their hold,
They ne'er would meet on earth again!
In vain his mistress, sad as he,
But with a heart from Self as free
As generous woman's only is,
Veil'd her own fears to banish his:—
With frank rebuke, but still more vain,
Did a rough warrior, who stood by,
Call to his mind this martial strain,
His favourite once, ere Beauty's eye
Had taught his soldier-heart to sigh:—
But now from lip to lip it flew:—
A youth, the flower of all the band,
Who late had left this sunny shore,
When last he kiss'd that maiden's hand,
Lingering, to kiss it o'er and o'er,
By his sad brow too plainly told
The' ill-omen'd thought which cross'd him then,
That once those hands should lose their hold,
They ne'er would meet on earth again!
In vain his mistress, sad as he,
But with a heart from Self as free
As generous woman's only is,
Veil'd her own fears to banish his:—
With frank rebuke, but still more vain,
Did a rough warrior, who stood by,
Call to his mind this martial strain,
His favourite once, ere Beauty's eye
Had taught his soldier-heart to sigh:—
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ||