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IRISH MELODIES,
COMPLETE;
10 WHICH ARE ADDED
NATIONAL MELODIES.
BY THOMAS MOORE, Esq.
BRUSSELS,
PRINTED AND SOLD BY E. PAUL AND CO.
1822.
COOLER
JUN 343
BRARY
CONTENTS.
IRISH MELODIES.
.
Go where glory waits thee.
Remember the glories of Bricn the Bravé.
3
Erin! the tear and the smile in thine eyes.
5
Oh! breathe not his name
2-let it sleep in the shade. ibid.
When he who adores thee has left but the name. 6
The barp that once through Tara's halls.
7
Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour. . .
8
Oh! think not my spirits are always as light. . 9
Though the last glimpse of Erin with sorrow I sce.
Rich and rare were the gems she wore.
13
As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow. 14
There is not in this wide world a valley so sweet..
15
Oh! haste and leave this sacred isle.
17
How dear to me the hour when day-light dies. 18
Take back the Virgin ; age.
19
When in death I shall calm recline.
How oft has the Benshee cried.
Wemay roam through this world like a child at a feast. 24
Oh! weep for the hour. ..
26
Let Erin remember the days of old.
28
Silent, oh, Moyle, be the roar of thy water.
30
Come send round the wine and let points of belief. 31
Sublime was the warning which liberty spoke. 32
Believe me if all these endearing young charms. . 34
Likethe bright lamp that lay on Kildare's holy shrine. 35
21
22
31
Drink to her who long hath waked the poet's sigh.
Oh! blame not the bard if he fly to the bowers.
39
While gazing on the Moon's light.
42
When day-light was yet sleeping under tne billow. 44
By the hope within us springing.
46
Night closed around the Conqueror's way. é 47
Oh! 'tis sweet to think that where'er we rove. . 48
Through grief and through danger.
50
When through life unblest we rove.
52
It is not the tear at this moment shed.
53
'Tis believed that this harp that I wake now for thee. 54
Oh! the days are gone, when beauty bright. . . 56
Though dark are our sorrows, to-day we'll forget them. 58
Weep on, weep on, your hour is past.
60
Lesbia hath a beaming eye.
61
I saw thy form in youthful prime.
63
By that lake whose gloomy shore.
65
She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps. 67
Nay, tell me not, dear, that the goblet drowns.
Avenging and bright fall the swift sword of Erin.
68
69
What the Bee is to the floweret.
72
Here we dwell in holiest bowers.
This life is all chequer'd with pleasures and wocs. 74
Through Erin's isle.
76
At the inid hour of night, when stars are wecping, I fly. 78
One bumper at parting ! though many.
79
Tis the last rose of summer.
81
The young May moon is beaming, sove.
82
The Minstrel-boy to the war is gone.
84
The valley lay smiling before me.
85
Oh! had we some bright little isle of our own.
88
Farewell !--but, whenever you welcome the nour . 89
/
93
96
98
100
101
107
Oh! doubt me not the season.
gr
You remember Ellen, our hamlet's pride.
I'd mourn the hopes that leave me. f
94
Coine o'er the sea.
Has sorrow thy young days shaded.
No, not more welcome the fairy numbers.
When first I met thee, warm and young.
While History's Muse the memorial was keeping. 103
The time I've lost in wooing.
105
Oh! where's the slave so lowly.
Come, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer. . 108
'Tis gone, and for ever, the light we saw breaking. 109
I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining. UI
Fill the bumper fair.
113
Dear Harp of my country! in darkness I found thee! 115
My gentle Harp! onee more I waken.
.117
As slow our ship her foamy track
119
In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown. 120
When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast loved, 122
Remember thee! yes, while there's life in this heart. 124
Wreath the bowl.
125
Whene'er I see those smiling eyes.
127
If thou'lt be minc, the treasures of air.
128
To Ladies'eyes around, boy. . .
129
Forget not the field where they perish'd.
131
They may rail at this life—from the hour I began it. 132
Ob! for the swords of former time.
134
Ne'er ask the hour- what is it to us.
135
Sail on, sail on, thou fearless bark.
136
Yes, sad one of Sion—if closely resembling. 139
ink of this cup-you'll find there's a spell in.
140
Down in the valley come mect me to-night. .142