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 “Irish Melodies”. 41. Lesbia Hath a Beaming Eye
2. From “Irish Melodies”. 47. What the Bee Is to the Floweret
3. From “Irish Melodies”. 120. Oh, Could We Do with This World of Ours
4. From “Irish Melodies”. 48. Love and the Novice
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 27

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