Epigram. Dialogue Between A Catholic Delegate And His Royal Highness The Duke Of Cumberland.

Said his Highness to Ned,^[1] with that grim face of his,
    "Why refuse us the Veto, dear Catholic Neddy?"
"Because, Sir," said Ned, looking full in his phiz,
    "You're forbidding enough, in all conscience, already!"

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

Song Of The Departing Spirit Of Tithe.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

A Warning.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

Her Last Words, At Parting.

Thomas Moore, Simple Poetry

The Fudges In England. Letter XI. From Patrick Magan, Esq., To The Rev. Richard ----. ------, Ireland.

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.

Recent Dialogue.

A Bishop and a bold dragoon,
    Both heroes in their way,
Did thus, of late, one afternoon,
    Unto each other say:--
"Dear bishop," quoth the brave huzzar,
    "As nobody denies
"That you a wise logician are,
    "And I am--otherwise,
"'Tis fit that in this question, we
    "Stick each to his own art--
"That yours should be the sophistry,
    "And mine the fighting part.
"My creed, I need not tell you, is
    "Like that of Wellington,
"To whom no harlot comes amiss,
    "Save her of Babylon;
"And when we're at a loss for words,
    "If laughing reasoners flout us,
"For lack of sense we'll draw our swords--
    "The sole thing sharp about us."--

"Dear bold dragoon," the bishop said,
    "'Tis true for war t...

Thomas Moore

Epigram.

What news to-day?--"Oh! worse and worse--
"Mac^[1] is the Prince's Privy Purse!"--
The Prince's Purse! no, no, you fool,
You mean the Prince's Ridicule.

Thomas Moore

To The Ship In Which Lord Castlereagh Sailed For The Continent.

Imitated from Horace, lib. i, ode 3.


So may my Lady's prayers prevail,
    And Canning's too, and lucid Bragge's,
And Eldon beg a favoring gale
    From Eolus, that older Bags,
To speed thee on thy destined way,
Oh ship, that bearest our Castlereagh,
Our gracious Regent's better half
    And therefore quarter of a King--
(As Van or any other calf
    May find without much figuring).
Waft him, oh ye kindly breezes,
    Waft this Lord of place and pelf,
Any where his Lordship pleases,
    Tho' 'twere to Old Nick himself!

Oh, what a face of brass was his.
Who first at Congress showed his phiz--
To sign away the Rights of Man
    To Russian threats and Austrian juggle;
And leave the sinking African
...

Thomas Moore

Epigram. Dialogue Between A Dowager And Her Maid On The Night Of Lord Yarmouth's Fete.

"I want the Court Guide," said my lady, "to look
    "If the House, Seymour Place, be at 30. or 20."--
"We've lost the Court Guide, Ma'am, but here's the Red Book.
    "Where you'll find, I dare say, Seymour Places in plenty!"

Thomas Moore

Speech On The Umbrella Question.

^[1]

BY LORD ELDON.


        "vos inumbrelles video."--Ex Juvenil.
        GEORGII CANNINGII.^[2]


My Lords, I'm accused of a trick that God knows is
    The last into which at my age I could fall--
Of leading this grave House of Peers by their noses,
    Wherever I choose, princes, bishops and all.

My Lords, on the question before us at present,
    No doubt I shall hear, "'Tis that cursed old fellow,
"That bugbear of all that is liberal and pleasant,
    "Who won't let the Lords give the man his umbrella!"

God forbid that your Lordships should knuckle to me;
    I am ancient--but were I as old as King Priam,
Not much, I confess, to your credit 'twould be,
    To mind such a twaddling...

Thomas Moore

An Expostulation To Lord King.

        "quem das finem, rex magne, laborum?"
        VERGIL.


1826.


How can you, my Lord, thus delight to torment all
    The Peers of the realm about cheapening their corn,^[1]
When you know, if one hasn't a very high rental,
    'Tis hardly worth while being very high born?

Why bore them so rudely, each night of your life,
    On a question, my Lord, there's so much to abhor in?
A question-like asking one, "How is your wife?"--
    At once so confounded domestic and foreign.

As to weavers, no matter how poorly they feast;
    But Peers and such animals, fed up for show,
(Like the well-physickt elephant, lately deceased,)
    Take a wonderful quantum of cramming, you know.

You might se...

Thomas Moore