Thomas Campbell

'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.

'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.

But, said as angels for the good man's sin,
Weep to record, and blush to give it in.

But, said as angels for the good man's sin,
Weep to record, and blush to give it in.

What we might call, by way of Eminence, the Dismal Science.

What we might call, by way of Eminence, the Dismal Science.

For there no yew nor cypress spread their glom
But roses blossom'd each rustic tomb.

For there no yew nor cypress spread their glom
But roses blossom'd each rustic tomb.

Victory has a hundred fathers, but defeat is an orphan.

Victory has a hundred fathers, but defeat is an orphan.