Maxioms by Thomas Campbell
'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.
'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.
There came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and read more
There came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill;
For his country he sigh'd, when at twilight repairing.
To wander along by the wind-beaten hill.
But the day star attracted his eyes' sad devotion,
For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean,
Where once in the fire of his youthful emotion
He sang the bold anthem of Erin-go-bragh.
A stoic of the woods,--a man without a tear.
A stoic of the woods,--a man without a tear.
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.
And hears thy stormy music in the drum!
And hears thy stormy music in the drum!
