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Quotes by S. Edward Moore
The maid who modestly conceals Her beauties, while she hides, reveals: Gives but a glimpse, and fancy draws Whate'er the Grecian Venus was.— filed under Beauty
S Can't I another's face commend, Or to her virtues be a friend, But instantly your forehead louers, As if her merit lessen'd yours?— filed under Jealousy
Boots. But from the hoop's bewitching round, Her very shoe has power to wound.— filed under Occupations-Shoemaking
Time, still as he flies, adds increase to her truth, And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth.— filed under Time
Diem. 'Tis now the summer of your youth: time has not cropped the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them.— filed under Youth
Ay, rail at gaming-'tis a rich topic, and affords noble declamation. Go, preach against it in the city-you'll find a congregation in every tavern.— filed under Garden
I'll tell thee what it says; it calls me villain, a treacherous husband, a cruel father, a false brother; one lost to nature and her charities; or to say all in one short word, it calls megamester.— filed under Garden
Oh, this pernicious vice of gaming!— filed under Garden
Cromwell. How calm, how beautiful comes on The stilly hour, when storms are gone.— filed under Peace
the Hous With what a deep devotedness of woe I wept thy absence-o'er and o'er again Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, And memory, like a drop that, night and day, Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!— filed under Absence
So Life's year begins and closes; Days, though short'ning, still can shine; What though youth gave love and roses, Age still leaves us friends and wine.— filed under Affliction
Then too when angel voices sung The mercy of their God, and strung Their harps to hail, with welcome sweet, That moment watched for by all eyes.— filed under Angels
I never nurs'd a dear gazelle, To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well And love me, it was sure to die.— filed under Animals-Horse
Bee. Fable X. Not more the rose, the queen of flowers, Outblushes all the bloom of bower, Than she unrivall'd grace discloses; The sweetest rose, where all are roses.— filed under Beauty
To weave a garland for the rose, And think thus crown'd 'twould lovelier be, Were far less vain than to suppose That silks and gems add grace to thee.— filed under Beauty
Legend. Prologue. Those evening bells! those evening bells! How many a tale their music tells!— filed under Bells
Bird of Paradise. Those golden birds that, in the spice-time, drop About the gardens, drunk with that sweet food Whose scent hath lur'd them o'er the summer flood; And those that under Araby's soft sun Build their high nests of budding cinnamon.— filed under Birds-Owl
My birthday!-what a different sound That word had in my youthful ears; And how each time the day comes round, Less and less white its mark appears.— filed under Birthday
While mantling on the maiden's cheek Young roses kindled into thought.— filed under Blushes
Faintly as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time, Soon as the woods on shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn; Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The rapids are near and the daylight's past!— filed under Books
How calm, how beautiful comes on The stilly hour, when storms are gone! When warring winds have died away, And clouds, beneath the glancing ray, Melt off, and leave the land and sea Sleeping in bright tranquillity!— filed under Calmness
All that's bright must fade, - The brightest still the fleetest; All that's sweet was made But to be lost when sweetest.— filed under Change
Good at a fight, but better at a play; Godlike in giving, but the devil to pay.— filed under Character
Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun, Grow pure by being purely shone upon.— filed under Chastity
Subtleties. Yes, rather plunge me back in pagan night, And take my chance with Socrates for bliss, Than be the Christian of a faith like this, Which builds on heavenly cant its earthly sway, And in a convert mourns to lose a prey.— filed under Christian
No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us, All earth forgot, and all heaven around us!— filed under Content
Like a young eagle, who has lent his plume, To fledge the shaft by which he meets his doom, See their own feathers pluck'd, to wing the dart, Which rank corruption destines for their heart! S.— filed under Corruption
Poems. To check young Genius' proud career, The slaves who now his throne invaded, Made Criticism his prime Vizier, And from that hour his glories faded.— filed under Criticism
Dear creature!-you'd swear When her delicate feet in the dance twinkle round, That her steps are of light, that her home is the air, And she only par complaisance touches the ground.— filed under Dancing
Blest power of sunshine!-genial day, What balm, what life is in thy ray! To feel there is such real bliss, That had the world no joy but this, To sit in sunshine calm and sweet, - It were a world too exquisite For man to leave it for the gloom, The deep, cold shadow, of the tomb.— filed under Day
Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb In life's happy morning hath hid from our eyes, Ere sin threw a blight o'er the spirit's young bloom, Or earth had profaned what was born for the skies.— filed under Death
All that's bright must fade, - The brightest still the fleetest; All that's sweet was made But to be lost when sweetest.— filed under Deceit
Oh! ever thus, from childhood's hour, I've seen my fondest hopes decay; I never loved a tree or flower, But 'twas the first to fade away. I never nursed a dear gazelle, To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well, And love me, it was sure to die!— filed under Disappointment
Oh! that a dream so sweet, so long enjoy'd, Should be so sadly, cruelly destroy'd!— filed under Disappointment
To sigh, yet feel no pain, To weep, yet scarce know why; To sport an hour with Beauty's chain, Then throw it idly by.— filed under Discretion
Peace. Alas! how light a cause may move Dissension between hearts that love! Hearts that the world in vain had tried, And sorrow but more closely tied; That stood the storm when waves were rough. Yet in a sunny hour fall off.— filed under Dissension
Shall I ask the brave soldier, who fights by my side In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree? Shall I give up the friend I have valued and tried, If he kneel not before the same altar with me? From the heretic girl of my soul should I fly, To seek somewhere else a more.orthodox kiss? No! perish the hearts, and the laws that try Truth, valour, or love, by a standard like this!— filed under Doctrine
One of those passing rainbow dreams, Half light, half shade, which fancy's beams Paint on the fleeting mists that roll, In trance or slumber, round the soul!— filed under Dreams
How sweet the answer Echo makes To music at night, When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes, And far away, o'er lawns and lakes, Goes answering light.— filed under Echo
This speck of life in time's great wilderness This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas, The past, the future, two eternities!— filed under Eternity
Fly not yet, 'tis 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.— filed under Evening
And the world's so rich in resplendent eyes, 'Twere a pity to limit one's love to a pair.— filed under Eyes
And violets, transform'd to eyes, Inshrined a soul within their blue.— filed under Eyes
Second Evening. Eyes of most unholy blue!— filed under Eyes
whose Gloomy Shore. Those eyes, whose light seem'd rather given To be ador'd than to adore- Such eyes as may have looked from heaven, But ne'er were raised to it before!— filed under Eyes
Cheek *** Flushing white and mellow'd red; Gradual tints, as when there glows In snowy milk the bashful rose.— filed under Face
But Faith, fanatic Faith, once wedded fast To some dear falsehood, hugs it to the last.— filed under Faith
Only Love. (See also Scott- Legend of Montrose. Ch. XV.) Go where glory waits thee; But while fame elates thee, Oh! still remember me.— filed under Fame
Bastard Freedom waves Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves.— filed under Flags
How the rose, of orient glow, Mingles with the lily's snow.— filed under Flirting
The Wreath's of brightest myrtle wove With brilliant tears of bliss among it, And many a rose leaf cull'd by Love To heal his lips when bees have stung it.— filed under Flirting
Yet, no-not words, for they But half can tell love's feeling; Sweet flowers alone can say What passion fears revealing: A once bright rose's wither'd leaf, A tow'ring lily broken,- Oh, these may paint a grief No words could e'er have spoken.— filed under Flirting
Amaranths such as crown the maids That wander through Zamara's shades.— filed under Flirting
Anemones and seas of gold, And new-blown lilies of the river, And those sweet flow'rets that unfold Their buds on Camadera's quiver.— filed under Flowers-Anemone
Basil. Pycnanthemum. The basil tuft, that waves Its fragrant blossom over graves. C.— filed under Flowers-Azalea
Champac. Michelia Champaca. The maid of India, blessed again to hold In her full lap the Champac's leaves of gold.— filed under Flowers-Clover
Coral-tree. Erythrina. The crimson blossoms of the coral-tree In the warm isles of India's sunny sea.— filed under Flowers-Clover
On my velvet couch reclining Ivy leaves my brow entwining, While my soul expands with glee, What are kings and crowns to me?— filed under Flowers-Ivy
While the myrtle, now idly entwin'd with his crown. Like the wreath of Harmodius, shall cover his sword.— filed under Flowers-Pansy
Find me next a Poppy posy, Type of his harangues so dozy.— filed under Flowers-Poppy
Long, long be my heart with such memories fill'd! Like the vase, in which roses have once been distill'd- You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.— filed under Flowers-Rose
Welcome the Hour. No flower of her kindred, No rosebud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, Or give sigh for sigh.— filed under Flowers-Rose
Rose of the Desert! thus should woman be Shining uncourted, lone and safe, like thee.— filed under Flowers-Rose
Rose of the Garden! such is woman's lot- Worshipp'd while blooming-when she fades, forgot.— filed under Flowers-Rose
Rose! thou art the sweetest flower, That ever drank the amber shower; Rose! thou art the fondest child Of dimpled Spring, the wood-nymph wild.— filed under Flowers-Rose
Sometimes, when on the Alpine rose The golden sunset leaves its ray, So like a gem the flow'ret glows, We thither bend our headlong way; And though we find no treasure there, We bless the rose that shines so fair.— filed under Flowers-Rose
Why do we shed the rose's bloom Upon the cold, insensate tomb? Can flowery breeze, or odor's breath, Afflict the slumbering chill of death?— filed under Flowers-Rose
Ode XXXII. There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream, And the nightingale sings round it all the day long, In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream, To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song.— filed under Flowers-Rose
Prophet of Khorassan. Oh! there is naught in nature bright Whose roses do not shed their light; When morning paints the Orient skies, Her fingers burn with roseate dyes.— filed under Flowers-Rose
The rose distils a healing balm The beating pulse of pain to calm.— filed under Flowers-Rose
'Tis the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone.— filed under Flowers-Rose
What would the rose with all her pride be worth, Were there no sun to call her brightness forth?— filed under Flowers-Rose
The humble rosemary Whose sweets so thanklessly are shed To scent the desert and the dead.— filed under Flowers-Rosemary
Shamrock. O, the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock! Chosen leaf Of Bard and Chief, Old Erin's native Shamrock.— filed under Flowers-Safflower
Like sunflowers by the sides of brooks, Turn'd to the sun.— filed under Flowers-Sunflower
As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets, The same look which she turn'd when he rose.— filed under Flowers-Sunflower
Tuberose. Polianthes Tuberosa. The tuberose, with her silvery light, That in the gardens of Malay Is call'd the Mistress of the Night, So like a bride, scented and bright; She comes out when the sun's away. C.— filed under Flowers-Thyme
Tulip-Root. Like tulip-beds of different shape and dyes, Bending beneath the invisible west-wind's sighs.— filed under Flowers-Violet
Hath the pearl less whiteness Because of its birth? Hath the violet less brightness For growing near earth?— filed under Flowers-Violet
Steals timidly away, Shrinking as violets do in summer's ray.— filed under Flowers-Violet
Those virgin lilies, all the night Bathing their beauties in the lake, That they may rise more fresh and bright, When their beloved sun's awake.— filed under Flowers-Violet
Oh, call it by some better name, For Friendship sounds too cold.— filed under Friendship
Lord Wm. Hamilton. Like Dead Sea fruit that tempts the eye, But turns to ashes on the lips!— filed under Fruits
No eye to watch and no tongue to wound us, All earth forgot, and all heaven around us.— filed under Happiness
But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES (Lord Houghton)-The Brookside. And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen, The maiden herself will steal after it soon.— filed under Heart
A Persian's Heaven is eas'ly made, 'Tis but black eyes and lemonade.— filed under Heaven
Who has not felt how sadly sweet The dream of home, the dream of home, Steals o'er the heart, too soon to fleet, When far o'er sea or land we roam?— filed under Home
Humility, that low, sweet root, From which all heavenly virtues shoot.— filed under Humor
There written all Black as the damning drops that fall From the denouncing Angel's pen, Ere Mercy weeps them out again.— filed under Judgment
Introduction. One kiss the maiden gives, one last, Long kiss, which she expires in giving.— filed under Kisses
followed upon my Writing Certain Treatises. Oh! if there be, on this earthly sphere, A boon, an offering Heaven holds dear, 'Tis the last libation Liberty draws From the heart that bleeds and breaks in her cause!— filed under Liberty
Death. Life is a waste of wearisome hours, Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns, And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers, Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.— filed under Life
But there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream.— filed under Love
I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart, I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art.— filed under Love
Love on through all ills, and love on till they die!— filed under Love
No, the heart that has truly loved 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.— filed under Love
"Tell me, what's Love;" said Youth, one day, To drooping Age, who crost his way.- "It is a sunny hour of play; For which repentance dear doth pay; Repentance! Repentance! And this is Love, as wise men say."— filed under Love
Martyrs! who left for our reaping Truths you had sown in your blood- Sinners! whom long years of weeping Chasten'd from evil to good- * * * * * * Say, through what region enchanted Walk ye, in Heaven's sweet air? Say, to what spirits 'tis granted, Bright souls, to dwell with you there?— filed under Martyrdom
There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, When two, that are link'd in one heavenly tie, With heart never changing, and brow never cold, Love on thro' all ills, and love on till they die.— filed under Matrimony
Oft in the stilly night E'er slumber's chain has bound me, Fond memory brings the light Of other days around me.— filed under Memory
To live with them is far less sweet Than to remember thee!— filed under Memory
Prime. When I remember all The friends so link'd together, I've seen around me fall, Like leaves in wintry weather I feel like one who treads alone Some banquet hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, whose garlands dead, And all but he departed.— filed under Memory
When time who steals our years away Shall steal our pleasures too, The mem'ry of the past will stay And half our joys renew.— filed under Memory
Now Neptune's sullen month appears, The angry night cloud swells with tears, And savage storms infuriate driven, Fly howling in the face of heaven! Now, now, my friends, the gathering gloom With roseate rays of wine illume: And while our wreaths of parsley spread Their fadeless foliage round our head, We'll hymn th' almighty power of wine, And shed libations on his shrine!— filed under Months-November
The moon looks On many brooks, The brook can see no moon but this.— filed under Monuments
Byron. 1830. I find the doctors and the sages Have differ'd in all climes and ages, And two in fifty scarce agree On what is pure morality.— filed under Morality
When did morning ever break, And find such beaming eyes awake?— filed under Morning
And music too-dear music! that can touch Beyond all else the soul that loves it much- Now heard far off, so far as but to seem Like the faint, exquisite music of a dream.— filed under Music
Prophet of Khorassan. If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover, Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone; I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over, And all the wild sweetness I wak'd was thy own.— filed under Music
If thou would'st have me sing and play As once I play'd and sung, First take this time-worn lute away, And bring one freshly strung.— filed under Music
and Play. The harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls, As if that soul were fled.— filed under Music
"This must be music," said he, "of the spears, For I am cursed if each note of it doesn't run through one!"— filed under Music
'Tis believ'd that this harp which I wake now for thee Was a siren of old who sung under the sea.— filed under Music
A Landscape of Domestic Life. There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet.— filed under Nature
And the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear.— filed under Night
Rich and rare were the gems she wore, And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.— filed under Occupations-Jeweler
How the Doctor's brow should smile Crown'd with wreaths of camomile.— filed under Occupations-Medicine
Jerrold's Wit. The Postman's Budget. Kind messages, that pass from land to land; Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history, In which we feel the pressure of a hand,- One touch of fire, and all the rest is mystery! LONGFELLOw-The Seaside and Fireside. Dedication. St. 5. Good-bye-my paper's out so nearly, I've only room for, Yours sincerely.— filed under Occupations-Post
Journal. February, 1843. Printing and Paper Making. Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print.— filed under Occupations-Preaching
One morn a Peri at the gate Of Eden stood disconsolate.— filed under Paradise
To Greece we give our shining blades.— filed under Patriotism
I knew by the smoke that so gracefully curled Above the green elms, that a cottage was near, And I said, "If there's peace to be found in the world, A heart that was humble might hope for it here."— filed under Peace
Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, And multiply each through endless years, One minute of Heaven is worth them all.— filed under Pleasure
What is Prayer? As down in the sunless retreats of the ocean Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see, So deep in my soul the still prayer of devotion Unheard by the world, rises silent to Thee.— filed under Prayer
Ay-down to the dust with them, slaves as they are, From this hour, let the blood in their dastardly veins, That shrunk at the first touch of Liberty's war, Be wasted for tyrants, or stagnant in chains.— filed under Quackery
Austrians into Naples, 1821. Just prophet, let the damn'd one dwell Full in the sight of Paradise, Beholding heaven and feeling hell.— filed under Quackery
One sole desire, one passion now remains To keep life's fever still within his veins, Vengeance! dire vengeance on the wretch who cast O'er him and all he lov'd that ruinous blast.— filed under Reverence
Schuylkill. Alone by the Schuylkill a wanderer rov'd, And bright were its flowery banks to his eye; But far, very far, were the friends that he lov'd, And he gaz'd on its flowery banks with a sigh.— filed under Rivers-Thames
For, bless the gude mon, gin he had nis ain way, He'd na let a cat on the Sabbath say “ mew;" Nae birdie maun whistle, nae lambie maun play, An' Phœbus himsel' could na travel that day, As he'd find a new Joshua in Andie Agnew.— filed under Sabbath
Every season hath its pleasures; Spring may boast her flowery prime, Yet the vineyard's ruby treasures Brighten Autumn's sob'rer time.— filed under Sows
Indifference. And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.— filed under Sensibility
It seem'd as if each thought and look And motion were that minute chain'd Fast to the spot such root she took, And-like a sunflower by a brook, With face upturn'd-so still remain'd! S.— filed under Sensibility
Like ships that have gone down at sea, When heaven was all tranquillity.— filed under Ships
To sigh, yet feel no pain.— filed under Sighs
But the trail of the serpent is over them all.— filed under Sin
Where bastard Freedom waves Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves.— filed under Slavery
Weep on; and, as thy sorrows flow, I'll taste the luxury of woe.— filed under Sorrow
There was a little man, and he had a little soul; And he said, "Little Soul, let us try, try, try!"— filed under Sorrow
But soon, the prospect clearing, By cloudless starlight on he treads And thinks no lamp so cheering As that light which Heaven sheds.— filed under Stars
And see-the Sun himself!-on wings Of glory up the East he springs. Angel of Light! who from the time Those heavens began their march sublime, Hath first of all the starry choir Trod in his Maker's steps of fire!— filed under Summer
C. Worshippers. As sunshine, broken in the rill, Though turn'd astray, is sunshine still!— filed under Summer
Now in his Palace of the West, Sinking to slumber, the bright Day, Like a tired monarch fann'd to rest, 'Mid the cool airs of Evening lay; While round his couch's golden rim The gaudy clouds, like courtiers, crept- Struggling each other's light to dim, And catch his last smile e'er he slept.— filed under Sunset
And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls. C.— filed under Tears
The glorious Angel, who was keeping The gates of Light, beheld her weeping; And, as he nearer drew and listen'd To her sad song, a tear-drop glisten'd Within his eyelids, like the spray From Eden's fountain, where it lies On the blue flow'r, which-Bramins say- Blooms nowhere but in Paradise.— filed under Tears
Ep. LVIII. To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.— filed under To-Morrow
Oh, colder than the wind that freezes Founts, that but now in sunshine play'd, Is that congealing pang which seizes The trusting bosom, when betray'd.— filed under Treason
Worshippers. Oh, for a tongue to curse the slave Whose treason, like a deadly blight, Comes o'er the councils of the brave, And blasts them in their hour of might!— filed under Treason
Our rocks are rough, but smiling there Th' acacia waves her yellow hair, Lonely and sweet, nor loved the less For flow'ring in a wilderness.— filed under Trees And Plants-Acacia
And the wind, full of wantonness, wooes like a lover The young aspen-trees till they tremble all over.— filed under Trees And Plants-Ash
this Common Sphere. Oh! what are the brightest that e'er have blown To the lote-tree, springing by Alla's throne, Whose flowers have a soul in every leaf.— filed under Trees And Plants-Linden
the Peri. They wove the lotus band to deck And fan with pensile wreath their neck.— filed under Trees And Plants-Linden
July. Beneath some orange-trees, Whose fruit and blossoms in the breeze Were wantoning together free, Like age at play with infancy.— filed under Trees And Plants-Palm
the Peri. If I were yonder orange-tree And thou the blossom blooming there, I would not yield a breath of thee To scent the most imploring air!— filed under Trees And Plants-Palm
Dear. 'Twas noon; and every orange bud Hung languid o'er the crystal flood, Faint as the lids of maiden eyes Beneath a lover's burning sighs!— filed under Trees And Plants-Palm
This world is all a fleeting show, For man's illusion given; The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow, - There's nothing true but Heaven.— filed under Truth
Then should some cloud pass over The brow of sire or lover, Think 'tis the shade By Victory made Whose wings right o'er us hover! C.— filed under Victory
Never does a wilder song Steal the breezy lyre along, When the wind in odors dying, Wooes it with enamor'd sighing. S.— filed under Wind
O Roman punch! O potent Curaçoa! O Maraschino! Maraschino O! Delicious drams! Why have you not the art To kill this gnawing Book-worm in my heart? S.— filed under Wine And Spirits
Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious and free, First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea.— filed under Wishes
Whose wit, in the combat, as gentle as bright, Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade.— filed under Livy
Disguise our bondage as we will, 'Tis woman, woman rules us still.— filed under Woman
My only books Were woman's looks, And folly's all they've taught me.— filed under Woman
If I speak to thee in friendship's name, Thou think'st I speak too coldly; If I mention Love's devoted flame, Thou say'st I speak too boldly.— filed under Wooing
'Tis sweet to think that where'er we rove We are sure to find something blissful and dear; And that when we're far from the lips we love, We've but to make love to the lips we are near.— filed under Wooing
The smiles, the tears Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken.— filed under Youth
So shall they build me altars in their zeal, Where knaves shall minister, and fools shall I kneel: Where faith may mutter o'er her mystic spell, Written in blood-and Bigotry may swell The sail he spreads for Heav'n with blasts from hell!— filed under Zeal