NOTICE OF THE PUBLISHERS. In offering to the Public the present Edition of Mr. Moore's Works, reprinted from the London one, just published under the eye and with the latest corrections of the author, Messrs. Galignani and Co. beg leave to point out some advantages which it possesses, that render it superior to the London edition. In the first place, the various changes and improvements made by Mr. Moore have been scrupulously followed in the text, but every passage which has been altered is placed, as originally written, in a note beneath, thus enabling the reader at once to perceive and to judge of the value of the emendation. Another and more important advantage is that, in the London Edition, several of the lighter pieces among the well-known earlier productions of the poet having been altogether omitted, it has been thought right here to preserve them, and they are accordingly given as addenda. Though now rejected by the matured taste of the illustrious writer, these are gems far too precious to be cast away; besides which, it has been felt that their exclusion would be incompatible with the COMPLETENESS which, it is the aim of the publishers, should distinguish this FINAL EDITION of the most celebrated Lyric Poet of his age. L. When wine 1 quaff before my eyes LI. Fly not thus my brow of snow LV. While we invoke the wreathed Spring. LVI. He, who instructs the youthful crew LVII. Whose was the artist's hand that spread LVIII. When Gold, as fleet as zephyr's pinion. LIX. Ripen'd by the solar beam LX. Awake to life, my sleeping shell. LXI. Youth's endearing charms are fled LXII. Fill me, boy, as deep a draught LXIII. To Love, the soft and blooming child LXIV. Haste thee, nymph, whose well-aim'd spear LXV. Like some wanton filly sporting. LXVI. To thee, the Queen of nymphs divine LXVII. Rich in bliss, I proudly scorn LXVIII. Now Neptune's mouth our sky deforms. LXIX. They wove the lotus band to deck LXX. A broken cake, with honey sweet LXXI. With twenty chords my lyre is hung LXXII. Fare thee well, perfidious maid. LXXIII. Awhile I bloom'd, a happy flower LXXIV. Monarch Love, resistless boy LXXV. Spirit of Love, whose locks unroll'd LXXVI. Hither, gentle Muse of mine. LXXVII. Would that I were a tuneful lyre LXXVIII. When Cupid sees how thickly now Cupid whose lamp has lent the ray. Let me resign this wretched breath I know thou lovest a brimming measure I fear that love disturbs my rest. XXIX. Yes-loving is a painful thrill 27 |