Thomas Moore

Humility, that low, sweet root,
From which all heavenly virtues shoot.

Humility, that low, sweet root,
From which all heavenly virtues shoot.

Then should some cloud pass over
The brow of sire or lover,
Think 'tis the shade
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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!

Study until twenty-five, investigation until forty, profession
until sixty, at which age I would have him retired on a read more

Study until twenty-five, investigation until forty, profession
until sixty, at which age I would have him retired on a double
allowance.

On my velvet couch reclining,
Ivy leaves my brow entwining,
While my soul expands with glee,
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On my velvet couch reclining,
Ivy leaves my brow entwining,
While my soul expands with glee,
What are kings and crowns to me?

I am nothing and to nothing tend,
On earth I nothing have and nothing claim,
Man's noblest read more

I am nothing and to nothing tend,
On earth I nothing have and nothing claim,
Man's noblest works must have one common end,
And nothing crown the tablet of his name.