Thomas Moore

While mantling on the maiden's cheek
Young roses kindled into thought.

While mantling on the maiden's cheek
Young roses kindled into thought.

And soon, too soon, we part with pain,
To sail o'er silent seas again.

And soon, too soon, we part with pain,
To sail o'er silent seas again.

Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun,
Grow pure by being purely shone upon.

Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun,
Grow pure by being purely shone upon.

Faintly as tolls the evening chime,
Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time,
Soon as read more

Faintly as tolls the evening chime,
Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time,
Soon as the woods on shore dim,
We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn;
Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast,
The rapids are near and the daylight's past.

To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.