Oh, Ye Dead! |
Thomas Moore, from Irish Melodies, vol. 8
Oh, ye Dead! oh, ye Dead!* whom we know by the light you give From your cold gleaming eyes, though you move like men who live, Why leave you thus your graves, In far off fields and waves, Where the worm and the sea-bird only know your bed, To haunt this spot where all Those eyes that wept your fall, And the hearts that wail'd you, like your own, lie dead?
2. It is true, it is true, we are shadows cold and wan; |