Thomas Moore

Every season hath its pleasure;
Spring may boast her flowery prime,
Yet the vineyard's ruby treasuries
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Every season hath its pleasure;
Spring may boast her flowery prime,
Yet the vineyard's ruby treasuries
Brighten Autumn's sob'rer time.

There is something more horrible than hoodlums, churls and
vipers, and that is knaves with moral justification for their read more

There is something more horrible than hoodlums, churls and
vipers, and that is knaves with moral justification for their
cause.

Where bastard Freedom waves
Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves.

Where bastard Freedom waves
Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves.

To Greece we give our shining blades.

To Greece we give our shining blades.

Dear creature!--you'd swear
When her delicate feet in the dance twinkle round,
That her steps are of read more

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.