Thomas Moore

And soon, too soon, we part with pain,
To sail o'er silent seas again.

And soon, too soon, we part with pain,
To sail o'er silent seas again.

Dear creature!--you'd swear
When her delicate feet in the dance twinkle round,
That her steps are of read more

Dear creature!--you'd swear
When her delicate feet in the dance twinkle round,
That her steps are of light, that her home is the air,
And she only par complaisance touches the ground.

Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.

Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.

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.

To Greece we give our shining blades.

To Greece we give our shining blades.