Poem by Thomas Moore

From “Irish Melodies”. 4. Oh! Breathe Not His Name

OH! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade,
Where cold and unhonour’d his relics are laid:
Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears that we shed,
As the night-dew that falls on the grass o’er his head.

But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps,
Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps;
And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls,
Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.

1. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 48
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 19
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 3
4. From “Irish Melodies”. 57. Oh! Had We Some Bright Little Isle of Our Own
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 50

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