'T is believ'd that this harp which I wake now for thee
More quotes by Thomas Moore
But there's nothing half so sweet in life
As love's young dream.
Though an angel should write, still 't is devils must print.
And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers
Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.
Just as the mind the erring sense believes,
The erring mind, in turn, the sense deceives.
Go where glory waits thee,
But while fame elates thee,
Oh! still remember me!
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Attribution
Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Thomas Moore (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.