Thomas Moore ( 6 of 56 )
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.
Good-bye--my paper's out so nearly,
I've only room for, Yours sincerely.
Good-bye--my paper's out so nearly,
I've only room for, Yours sincerely.
Oh, colder than the wind that freezes
Founts, that but now in sunshine play'd,
Is that congealing read more
Oh, colder than the wind that freezes
Founts, that but now in sunshine play'd,
Is that congealing pang which seizes
The trusting bosom, when betray'd.
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.
Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun,
Grow pure by being purely shone upon.
Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun,
Grow pure by being purely shone upon.
How sweet the answer Echo makes
To music at night,
When, roused by lute or horn, she read more
How sweet the answer Echo makes
To music at night,
When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes,
And far away, o'er lawns and lakes,
Goes answering light.
