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This wretched brain gave way, and I became a wreck at random driven, without one glimpse of reason or heaven.

Thomas Moore

Bastard Freedom waves Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves.
THOMAS MOORE

Humiliate Slave
Came but for friendship, and took away love.
THOMAS MOORE

Friendship Love Relationship
From plants that wake when others sleep, from timid jasmine buds that keep their odour to themselves all day, but when the sunlight dies away let the delicious secret out to every breeze that roams about.
THOMAS MOORE

Delicious Light Plant Roam Sun Wake Up
It is only to the happy that tears are a luxury.
THOMAS MOORE

Happiness Luxury Tears
A pretty wife is something for the fastidious vanity of a roue to retire upon.
THOMAS MOORE

Pretty Retirement Wife
All that’s bright must fade, The brightest still the fleetest; All that’s sweet was made But to be lost when sweetest.
THOMAS MOORE

Bright Lost Sweet
Ask a woman’s advice, and whatever she advises, Do the very reverse and you’re sure to be wise.
THOMAS MOORE

Advice Herself Woman
This wretched brain gave way, and I became a wreck at random driven, without one glimpse of reason or heaven.
THOMAS MOORE

Brain Drive Heaven Myself Reason
Humility, that low, sweet root, from which all heavenly virtues shoot.
THOMAS MOORE

Heaven Humility Shoot Virtue
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish; Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.
THOMAS MOORE

Anguish Hard Time Healing Heart Heaven Inspirational Wound
While mantling on the maiden’s cheek Young roses kindled into thought.
THOMAS MOORE

Rose Thinking Young
Fond memory brings the light of other days around me.
THOMAS MOORE

Day Light Memories Myself
My only books were woman’s looks, and folly’s all they’ve taught me.
THOMAS MOORE

Book Myself Teaching Woman
What though youth gave love and roses, Age still leaves us friends and wine.
THOMAS MOORE

Friendship Love Rose Wine Youth
Though an angel should write, still ’tis devils must print.
THOMAS MOORE

Angel Devil Print Writing
Disguise our bondage as we will, ‘Tis woman, woman, rules us still.
THOMAS MOORE

Bondage Ourselves Rule Woman

This wretched brain gave way, and I became a wreck at random driven, without one glimpse of reason or heaven.

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This wretched brain gave way, and I became a wreck at random driven, without one glimpse of reason or heaven.

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