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1779–1852

IRISH MELODIES

Thomas Moore

Go where glory waits thee, But while fame elates thee, Oh! still remember me. When the praise thou meetest

To thine ear is sweetest, Oh! then remember me. Other arms may press thee, Dearer friends caress thee,

All the joys that bless thee, Sweeter far may be; But when friends are nearest, And when joys are dearest,

Oh! then remember me! When, at eve, thou rovest By the star thou lovest, Oh! then remember me.

Think, when home returning, Bright we've seen it burning, Oh! thus remember me. Oft as summer closes,

When thine eye reposes On its lingering roses, Once so loved by thee, Think of her who wove them,

Her who made thee love them, Oh! then, remember me. When, around thee dying, Autumn leaves are lying,

Oh! then remember me. And, at night, when gazing On the gay hearth blazing, Oh! still remember me.

Then should music, stealing All the soul of feeling, To thy heart appealing, Draw one tear from thee;

Then let memory bring thee Strains I used to sing thee,— Oh! then remember me.

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IRISH MELODIES · Thomas Moore · Poetry Cove