Thomas Moore

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and
that is eternity.

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and
that is eternity.

O, the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock!
Chosen leaf
OF Bard and Chief,
Old read more

O, the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock!
Chosen leaf
OF Bard and Chief,
Old Erin's native Shamrock.

Yes,--rather plunge me back in pagan night,
And take my chance with Socrates for bliss,
Than be read more

Yes,--rather plunge me back in pagan night,
And take my chance with Socrates for bliss,
Than be the Christian of a faith like this,
Which builds on heavenly cant its earthly sway,
And in a convert mourns to lose a prey.

Faintly as tolls the evening chime,
Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time,
Soon as read more

Faintly as tolls the evening chime,
Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time,
Soon as the woods on shore dim,
We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn;
Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast,
The rapids are near and the daylight's past.

Hath the pearl less whiteness
Because of its birth?
Hath the violet less brightness
read more

Hath the pearl less whiteness
Because of its birth?
Hath the violet less brightness
For growing near earth?