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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

"The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Collected by Himself with Explanatory Notes"


Then still continue, ye reverend souls,
And still as your rich Pactolus rolls,
Grasp every penny on every side,
From every wretch, to swell its tide:
Remembering still what the Law lays down,
In that pure poetic style of its own.
"If the parson _in esse_ submits to loss, he
"Inflicts the same on the parson _in posse_."

[1] Fourteen agricultural laborers (one of whom received so little as six
guineas for yearly wages, one eight, one nine, another ten guineas, and
the best paid of the whole not more than 18_l_. annually) were all, in the
course of the autumn of 1832, served with demands of tithe at the rate of
4_d_. in the 1_l_. sterling, on behalf of the Rev. F. Lundy, Rector of
Lackington, etc.--_The Times_, August, 1833.
[2] One of the various general terms under which oblations, tithes, etc.,
are comprised.



FOOLS' PARADISE.
DREAM THE FIRST.

I have been, like Puck, I have been, in a trice,
To a realm they call Fool's Paradise,
Lying N.N.E. of the Land of Sense,
And seldom blest with a glimmer thence.
But they wanted not in this happy place,
Where a light of its own gilds every face;
Or if some wear a shadowy brow,
'Tis the _wish_ to look wise,--not knowing _how_.
Self-glory glistens o'er all that's there,
The trees, the flowers have a jaunty air;
The well-bred wind in a whisper blows,
The snow, if it snows, is _couleur de rose_,
The falling founts in a titter fall,
And the sun looks simpering down on all.


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