Thomas Moore

In Adam's fall--
We sinned all.

In Adam's fall--
We sinned all.

Find me next a Poppy posy,
Type of his harangues so dozy.

Find me next a Poppy posy,
Type of his harangues so dozy.

How calm, how beautiful comes on
The stilly hour, when storms are gone!
When warring winds have read more

How calm, how beautiful comes on
The stilly hour, when storms are gone!
When warring winds have died away,
And clouds, beneath the glancing ray,
Melt off, and leave the land and sea
Sleeping in bright tranquillity.

Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eye read more

Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eye of vulgar light,
Begins to bloom for sons of night.

Go where glory waits thee;
But while fame elates thee,
Oh! still remember me.

Go where glory waits thee;
But while fame elates thee,
Oh! still remember me.