Poem by Thomas Moore

Come, Ye Disconsolate (From “Sacred Songs”)

Come, ye disconsolate, where’er you languish,
  	Come, at God’s altar fervently kneel;
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish –
  	Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.

Joy of the desolate, Light of the straying,
  	Hope, when all others die, fadeless and pure,
Here speaks the Comforter, in GOD’S name saying –
  	“Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”

Go, ask the infidel, what boon he brings us
  	What charm for aching hearts he can reveal,
Sweet as that heavenly promise Hope sings us –
  	“Earth has no sorrow that GOD cannot heal.”

1. From “Irish Melodies”. 41. Lesbia Hath a Beaming Eye
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 32
3. From “Irish Melodies”. 47. What the Bee Is to the Floweret
4. From “Irish Melodies”. 120. Oh, Could We Do with This World of Ours
5. From “Irish Melodies”. 48. Love and the Novice

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