Before the Battle |
Thomas Moore, from Irish Melodies, vol. 3
By the hope within us springing, Herald of to-morrow's strife; By that sun, whose light is bringing Chains or freedom, death or life Oh! remember life can be No charm for him, who lives not free! Like the day-star in the wave, Sinks a hero in his grave, 'Midst the dew-fall of a nation's tears.
Happy is he o'er whose decline | O'er his watch-fire's fading embers Now the foeman's cheek turns white, When his heart that field remembers, Where we tamed his tyrant might. Never let him bind again A chain like that we broke from then. Hark! the horn of combat calls Ere the golden evening falls, May we pledge that horn in triumph round.*
Many a heart that now beats high, |