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YIELD THEE TO PLEASURE, OLD CARE

Yield thee to pleasure, old Care;

Hope—let me rejoice in thy truth;

Leave me, pale sickness; forbear,

And steal not the rose of my youth.

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SONG
norah

By the Bannow’s meandering stream,

By the green banks of Shannon I’ve stray’d;

I’ve bless’d the soft glance, as it came,

Of many a beautiful maid.

My heart throbb’d a moment, I own,5

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SENT TO A LADY WHO WAS GOING TO A BALL

May health brace your nerves, as I find you’re for gadding,

And Care drop the end of his tether,

And stately dame Conscience give license for madding,

And toss up your heart like a feather.

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ON THE DEATH OF HIS INFANT SON ROBERT

Farewell! my sweet, my budding flower,

My rosy cherub-boy, farewell!

My tortures at thy dying hour,

Thy guardian-angels best can tell!

• Read more about BIRDS AND INSECTS POST OFFICE – Editorial introduction (1824)

BIRDS AND INSECTS POST OFFICE(1824)

Introduction

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THE AUTHOR’S EPITAPH

First made a Farmer’s Boy, and then a snob,

A poet he became, and here lies Bob.

⁽¹⁾

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GOOD NATURE

Much of good nature, grey-beards tell,

And make a great to-do:

I’ve weigh’d their bold assertions well,

And now believe them true.

Let beauty’s bloom improve or fade,5

Wit bring its good or harm,

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HAPPINESS OF GLEANERS

⁽¹⁾

For the full text of the poem, which dates from 1786, see ‘An Harvest Scene’.

—Welcome the cot’s

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[WINE, beauty, smiles, and social mirth]

Wine, beauty, smiles, and social mirth,

Right welcome to the table;

These!—every mother’s son of earth

Will honour!—while he’s able.

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HOB’S EPITAPH

A Grey-owl was I when on earth;

My master, a wondrous wise-man,

Found out my deserts and my worth,

And would needs have me bred an exciseman.

⁽¹⁾