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Britannia needs no bulwarks,
No towers along the steep ;
Ode. re Mariners of England.
Through the perils of chance, and the scowl of disdain,
May thy front be unaltered, thy courage elate ! Yea! ev'n the name I have worshipp'd in vain Shall awake not the sigh of remembrance again ; To bear is to conquer our fate.
Lines written on Visiting a Scene in Argyleshire.
Thousands had sunk on the ground overpower'd,
The Soldier's Dream.
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 alone by the wind-beaten hill.
The Exile of Erin.*
How little do
The dangers of the seas.
And they will plainly show
When the stormy winds do blow."
* Tom Moore is by many persons supposed to have been the author of this.
Oh! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid.
0! Breathe not his Name.
Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious, and free, First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea.
Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side
In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree? Shall I give up the friend I have valued and tried, If he kneel not before the same altar with me?
Come Send Round the Wine.
The heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close,
As the sunflower turns on her god, when he sets,
Believe me if all those Endearing Young Charms.
There's nothing half so sweet in life
Love's Young Dream.
O the shamrock, the green, immortal shamrock !
Of bard and chief, Old Erin's native shamrock. O the Shamrock !
Long, long be my heart with such memories fill'd! Like the vase, in which roses have once been distillid: break, you may shatter the vase if
will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
Farewell ! but Whenever you Welcome the Hour
And music, too, dear music! that can touch
Beyond all else the soul that loves it much,
The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan,
The trail of the serpent is over them all.
Paradise and the Peri.
I've seen my
Oh! ever thus, from childhood's hour,
fondest hopes decay ; I never loved a tree or flower,
But 'twas the first to fade away. I never nursed a dear gazelle,
To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well, And love me, it was sure to die.
The Fire Worshippers. Lines 278-285.
Alas ! how light a cause may move
Light of the Haram. Lines 183-190.
There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told,
When two, that are link'd in one heavenly tie, With heart never changing, and brow never cold,
Love on through all ills, and love on till they die! One hour of a passion so sacred is worth
Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss ;
And oh! if there be an elysium on earth,
It is this, it is this.
Fly to the desert, fly with me,
Concluding portion of Light of the Haram.
But bees, on flowers alighting, cease their hum,
Corruption. An Epistle. Lines 161, 162.
Yes, rather plunge me back in pagan night,
Intolerance. A Satire. Lines 68-72.
Friend of my soul ! this goblet sip,
’T will chase that pensive tear ; 'I is not so sweet as woman's lip,
But, oh! 'tis more sincere.
Like her delusive beam,
'T will steal away thy mind : But, like Affection's dream, It leaves no sting behind.
Juvenile Poems. Anacreontique.