Maxioms by Thomas Campbell
Ye mariners of England!
That guard our native seas;
Whose flag has braved a thousand years,
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Ye mariners of England!
That guard our native seas;
Whose flag has braved a thousand years,
The battle and the breeze!
The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began,
Dropt on the world--a sacred gift to man.
The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began,
Dropt on the world--a sacred gift to man.
'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.
There came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and read more
There came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill;
For his country he sigh'd, when at twilight repairing.
To wander along by the wind-beaten hill.
But the day star attracted his eyes' sad devotion,
For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean,
Where once in the fire of his youthful emotion
He sang the bold anthem of Erin-go-bragh.
