Cloris And Fanny.

Cloris! if I were Persia's king,
    I'd make my graceful queen of thee;
While FANNY, wild and artless thing,
    Should but thy humble handmaid be.

There is but one objection in it--
    That, verily, I'm much afraid
I should, in some unlucky minute,
    Forsake the mistress for the maid.

Thomas Moore

Thomas Moore was an Irish poet, singer, and songwriter, celebrated for his Irish Melodies, which are now considered a staple of Irish cultural heritage. Born on May 28, 1779, in Dublin, Ireland, Moore gained fame for his lyrical songs, many of which were set to traditional Irish tunes. Not only a poet, but he was also a staunch advocate of Irish nationalism, often incorporating themes of national identity and resistance into his work. Moore's influential collection 'Irish Melodies' became popular in both Ireland and Britain and helped to define the literary output of the era. He passed away on February 25, 1852, but his legacy in Irish literature and music endures.

Thomas Moore

Ne'er Talk Of Wisdom's Gloomy Schools. (Mahratta Air.)

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

Grand Dinner Of Type And Co. A Poor Poet's Dream.[1]

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

Odes Of Anacreon - Ode XXXVII.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

Up, Sailor Boy, 'Tis Day.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Dear Fanny.

"She has beauty, but still you must keep your heart cool;
    "She has wit, but you mustn't be caught, so;"
Thus Reason advises, but Reason's a fool,
    And 'tis not the first time I have thought so,
        Dear Fanny.
    'Tis not the first time I have thought so.

"She is lovely; then love her, nor let the bliss fly;
    "'Tis the charm of youth's vanishing season;"
Thus Love has advised me and who will deny
    That Love reasons much better than Reason,
        Dear Fanny?
    Love reasons much better than Reason.

Thomas Moore

Fanny, Dearest.

Yes! had I leisure to sigh and mourn,
    Fanny, dearest, for thee I'd sigh;
And every smile on my cheek should turn
    To tears when thou art nigh.
But, between love, and wine, and sleep,
    So busy a life I live,
That even the time it would take to weep
    Is more than my heart can give.
Then bid me not to despair and pine,
    Fanny, dearest of all the dears!
The Love that's ordered to bathe in wine,
    Would be sure to take cold in tears.

Reflected bright in this heart of mine,
    Fanny, dearest, thy image lies;
But, ah, the mirror would cease to shine,
    If dimmed too often with sighs.
They lose the half of beauty's light,
    Who view it through sorrow's tear;
And 'tis but to see thee truly bright
    That I keep my eye-beam c...

Thomas Moore

Song. Fanny, Dearest.

Yes! had I leisure to sigh and mourn,
    Fanny dearest, for thee I'd sigh;
And every smile on my cheek should turn
    To tears when thou art nigh.
But between love and wine and sleep,
    So busy a life I live,
That even the time it would take to weep
    Is more than my heart can give.
Then wish me not to despair and pine,
    Fanny, dearest of all the dears!
The Love that's ordered to bathe in wine,
    Would be sure to take cold in tears.

Reflected bright in this heart of mine,
    Fanny dearest, thy image lies;
But ah! the mirror would cease to shine,
    If dimmed too often with sighs.
They lose the half of beauty's light,
    Who view it thro' sorrow's tear;
And 'tis but to see thee truly bright
    That I keep my eye-beams clear.<...

Thomas Moore

To the Fair Clarinda

Who made love to me,
Imagin'd more than woman.

Fair lovely Maid, or if that Title be
Too weak, too Feminine for Nobler thee,
Permit a Name that more Approaches Truth:
And let me call thee, Lovely Charming Youth.
This last will justify my soft complaint,
While that may serve to lessen my constraint;
And without Blushes I the Youth pursue,
When so much beauteous Woman is in view.
Against thy Charms we struggle but in vain
With thy deluding Form thou giv'st us pain,
While the bright Nymph betrays us to the Swain.
In pity to our Sex sure thou wer't sent,
That we might Love, and yet be Innocent:
For sure no Crime with thee we can commit;
Or if we shou'd - thy Form excuses it.
For who, that gathers fairest Flowers believes
A Snake lies hid beneath th...

Aphra Behn

When On The Lip The Sigh Delays.

When on the lip the sigh delays,
    As if 'twould linger there for ever;
When eyes would give the world to gaze,
    Yet still look down and venture never;
When, tho' with fairest nymphs we rove,
    There's one we dream of more than any--
If all this is not real love,
    'Tis something wondrous like it, Fanny!

To think and ponder, when apart,
    On all we've got to say at meeting;
And yet when near, with heart to heart,
    Sit mute and listen to their beating:
To see but one bright object move,
    The only moon, where stars are many--
If all this is not downright love,
    I prithee say what is, my Fanny!

When Hope foretells the brightest, best,
    Tho' Reason on the darkest reckons;
When Passion drives us to the west,
...

Thomas Moore

The Fudge Family In Paris Letter V. From Miss Biddy Fudge To Miss Dorothy ----.

What a time since I wrote!--I'm a sad, naughty girl--
For, tho' like a tee-totum, I'm all in a twirl;--
Yet even (as you wittily say) a tee-totum
Between all its twirls gives a letter to note 'em.
But, Lord, such a place! and then, DOLLY, my dresses,
My gowns, so divine!--there's no language expresses,
Except just the two words "superbe, magnifique,"
The trimmings of that which I had home last week!
It is called--I forget--à la--something which sounded
Like alicampane--but in truth I'm confounded
And bothered, my dear, 'twixt that troublesome boy's
(BOB'S) cookery language, and Madame LE ROI'S:
What with fillets of roses, and fillets of veal,
Things garni with lace, and things garni with eel,
One's hair and one's c...

Thomas Moore