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Books Books 81 - 90 of 90 on Tis then their soft attractions glowing Set the tides and goblets flowing. Oh! stay,....
" Tis then their soft attractions glowing Set the tides and goblets flowing. Oh! stay, — Oh! stay, — Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this to-night, that, oh ! 'tis pain To break its links so soon. "
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Including His Melodies, Ballads, Etc ... - Page 293
by Thomas Moore - 1829 - 408 pages
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A thousand and one gems of English poetry, selected and arranged by C. Mackay

Charles Mackay - 1897
...only throb she gives Is when some heart indignant breaks, To show that still she lives. FLY NOT YET. FLY not yet ; 'tis just the hour When pleasure, like...bloom for sons of night, And maids who love the moon. 'Twas but to bless these hours of shade That beauty and the moon were made ; 'Tis then their soft attractions...
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The Universal Irish Song Book: A Complete Collection of the Songs and ...

Patrick John Kenedy - 1898
...rivet thy chains, Shall pause at the song of their captive, and weep. FLY NOT YET. BY THOMAS MOOKE. Fl.Y not yet, 'tis just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flo\v'rs That scorns the eye ot vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sons of night, And maids who love...
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Irish Melodies and National Airs

Thomas Moore - Ireland - 1879 - 224 pages
...only throb she gives, Is when some heart indignant breaks, To show that still she tires. FLY NOT YET. FLY not yet, 'tis just the hour, When pleasure, like...bloom for sons of night, And maids who love the moon. 'Twas but to bless these hours of shade That beauty and the moon were made ; 'Tis then their soft attractions...
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Familiar Quotations: A Collection of Passages, Phrases, and Proverbs Traced ...

John Bartlett - Quotations - 1903 - 1158 pages
...should write, still 't is devils must print. The Fudgei in England. Letter u1. Fly not yet ; 't is just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flower...bloom for sons of night And maids who love the moon. Fly not yet. Oh stay ! oh stay ! Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this to-night, that oh 't is pain...
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Familiar Quotations: A Collection of Passages, Phrases, and Proverbs Traced ...

John Bartlett - Quotations - 1903 - 1158 pages
...11. Though an angel should write, still 't is devils must print. '/V/c Fudyet in England. .Letter m. Fly not yet; 'tis just the hour When pleasure, like...bloom for sons of night And maids who love the moon. Fly not yet. Oh stay ! oh stay ! Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this to-night, that oh 't is pain...
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In & Out of Book and Journal

Algernon Sydney Roberts - 1903
...own country, but if you say anything in its favor he always thinks you are quizzing him. — Lever. Fly not yet : 'tis just the hour When pleasure, like...flower That scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to b 1 oom for sons of night, And maids who love the moon. Moore. Hurrah for the meter, the jolly new...
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Familiar Quotations: A Collection of Passages, Phrases, and Proverbs Traced ...

John Bartlett - Quotations - 1903 - 1158 pages
...should write, still 't is devils must print. The t'uiiyei in England. Lttter iii. Fly not yet ; 't is just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flower...scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sous of night And maids who love the moon. Oh stay ! oh stay ! Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this...
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The Cincinnati Lancet-clinic, Volume 81

Medicine - 1899
...according to their own teachings. Tom Moore, in one of his many sonnets, "Fly Not Yet," sings — " Fir not yet, 'tis just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flower, That scorns the eyes of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sons of night And maids who love the moon. Oitay! Ostay!...
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HOYT'S NEW CYCLOPEDIA OF PRACTICAL QUOTATIONS

KATE LOUISE ROBERTS - 1922
...L. 598. Just then return'd at slmt of evening flowers. MILTON— 1'aradise Last. Bk. IX. L. 278. 2 turning o' th' tide: for MOORE — Fly \ot Ytt. 3 0 how grandly cometh Even, Sitting on the mountain summit, Purple^ vestured,...
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Poems

1865
...only throb she gives Is when some heart indignant breaks, To shew that still she lives. FLY NOT YET. FLY not yet, 'tis just the hour When pleasure, like...scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sous of night, And maids who love the moon ! 'Twas but to bless these hours of shade That beauty and...
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