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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS |
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For all that's bright indeed must fade and perish, And all that's sweet when sweetest not endure,
Before the world shall cease to love and cherish The wit and song, the name and fame of Moore. |
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IRELAND
THEY are dying 1 they are dying! where the golden corn is growing; They are dying ! they are dying ! where the crowded herds are lowing : They are gasping for existence where the streams of
life are flowing, And they perish of the plague where the breeze of health is blowing !
God of justice ! God of power !
Do we dream ? can it be, In this land, at this hour, With the blossom of the tree, In the gladsome month of May, When the young lambs play, When Nature looks around
On her waking children now, The seed within the ground, The bud upon the bough? Is it right, is it fair, That we perish of despair In this land, on this soil
Where our destiny is set, Which we cultured with our toil, And watered with our sweat ? |
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