Top 8 Edward Moore Quotes

’Tis now the summer of your youth: time has not cropt the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them.

I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice.

I'll tell thee what it [the world] says: it calls me a villain: a treacherous husband; a cruel father; a false brother; one lost to nature and her charities; or, to say all in one short word, it calls me—gamester.

But from the hoop’s bewitching round,
Her very shoe has power to wound.

The maid who modestly conceals
Her beauties, while she hides, reveals;
Give but a glimpse, and fancy draws
Whate’er the Grecian Venus was.

Can’t I another’s face commend,
And to her virtues be a friend,
But instantly your forehead lours,
As if her merit lessen’d yours?

But beauty has wings, and too hastily flies, And love, unrewarded, soon sickens and dies.

Time still, as he flies, brings increase to her truth,
And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth.