Thomas Campbell

For there no yew nor cypress spread their glom
But roses blossom'd each rustic tomb.

For there no yew nor cypress spread their glom
But roses blossom'd each rustic tomb.

Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky
When storms prepare to part,
I ask not proud Philosophy
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Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky
When storms prepare to part,
I ask not proud Philosophy
To teach me what thou art.

He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.

He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.

Victory has a hundred fathers, but defeat is an orphan.

Victory has a hundred fathers, but defeat is an orphan.

Out spoke the victor then,
As he hail'd them o'er the wave,
Ye are brothers! ye are read more

Out spoke the victor then,
As he hail'd them o'er the wave,
Ye are brothers! ye are men!
And we conquer but to save;
So peace instead of death let us bring;
But yield, proud foe, let us bring;
With the crews, at England's feet,
And make submission meet
To our King.