Poem by Thomas Moore

Bright Be Thy Dreams

              Welsh air

Bright be thy dreams -- may all thy weeping
Turn into smiles while thou art sleeping.
May those by death or seas removed,
The friends, who in thy springtime knew thee,
All thou hast ever priz'd or lov'd,
In dreams come smiling to thee!

There may the child, whose love lay deepest,
Dearest of all, come while thou sleepest;
Still as she was -- no charm forgot --
No lustre lost that life had given;
Or, if changed, but changed to what
Thou'lt find her yet in Heaven!

1. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 16
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 75
3. From “Irish Melodies”. 123. From This Hour the Pledge Is Given
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 27
5. From “Irish Melodies”. 114. I’ve a Secret to Tell Thee

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