Thomas Campbell

When the stormy winds do blow;
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds read more

When the stormy winds do blow;
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow.

Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky
When storms prepare to part,
I ask not proud Philosophy
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Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky
When storms prepare to part,
I ask not proud Philosophy
To teach me what thou art.

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.

Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true:
Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you,
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Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true:
Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you,
For ye waft me to summers of old,
When the earth teem'd around me with fairy delight,
And when daisies and buttercups gladden'd my sight,
Like treasures of silver and gold.

Cease, every joy, to glimmer in my mind,
But leave,--oh! leave the light of Hope behind!

Cease, every joy, to glimmer in my mind,
But leave,--oh! leave the light of Hope behind!