Thomas Moore (Томас Мур)

From “Irish Melodies”. 17. How Oft Has the Benshee Cried

         HOW oft has the Benshee cried,
         How oft has death untied
         Bright links that Glory wove,
         Sweet bonds entwined by Love.
Peace to each manly soul that sleepeth;
Rest to each faithful eye that weepeth;
         Long may the fair and brave,
         Sigh o’er the hero’s grave.

         We’re fallen upon gloomy days!
         Star after star decays.
         Every bright name, that shed
         Light o’er the land, is fled.
Dark falls the tear of him who mourneth
Lost joy, or hope that ne’er returneth:
         But brightly flows the tear,
         Wept o’er a hero’s bier.

         Quench’d are our beacon lights —
         Thou, of the Hundred Fights!
         Thou, on whose burning tongue
         Truth, peace, and freedom hung!
Both mute, — but long as valour shineth,
Or mercy’s soul at war repineth,
         So long shall Erin’s pride
         Tell how they lived and died.

1. День текущий -- день наш, дорогая! • To-Day, Dearest! Is Ours
2. Савойская ария • Oft, When the Watching Stars Grow Pale
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 63
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 60
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 43

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