Thomas Moore (Томас Мур)

From “Irish Melodies”. 20. The Song of Fionnuala

          SILENT, oh Moyle, be the roar of thy water,
                Break not, ye breezes, your chain of repose,
          While, murmuring mournfully, Lir’s lonely daughter
                Tell’s to the night-star her tale of woes.
          When shall the swan, her death-note singing,
                Sleep, with wings in darkness furl’d?
          When will heaven, its sweet bell ringing,
                Call my spirit from this stormy world?

          Sadly, oh Moyle, to thy winter-wave weeping,
                Fate bids me languish long ages away;
          Yet still in her darkness doth Erin lie sleeping,
                Still doth the pure light its dawning delay.
          When will that day-star, mildly springing,
                Warm our isle with peace and love?
          When will heaven, its sweet bell ringing,
                Call my spirit to the fields above?

1. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 16
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 75
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 27
4. From “Irish Melodies”. 114. I’ve a Secret to Tell Thee
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 17

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