Thomas Moore

Steals timidly away,
Shrinking as violets do in summer's ray.

Steals timidly away,
Shrinking as violets do in summer's ray.

All that's bright must fade,--
The brightest still the fleetest;
All that's sweet was made
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All that's bright must fade,--
The brightest still the fleetest;
All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest.

Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print.

Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print.

It seem'd as if each thought and look
And motion were that minute chain'd
Fast to the read more

It seem'd as if each thought and look
And motion were that minute chain'd
Fast to the spot such root she took,
And--like a sunflower by a brook,
With face upturn'd--so still remain'd!

Bastard Freedom waves
Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves.

Bastard Freedom waves
Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves.