Thomas Moore

Every season hath its pleasure;
Spring may boast her flowery prime,
Yet the vineyard's ruby treasuries
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Every season hath its pleasure;
Spring may boast her flowery prime,
Yet the vineyard's ruby treasuries
Brighten Autumn's sob'rer time.

How sweet the answer Echo makes
To music at night,
When, roused by lute or horn, she read more

How sweet the answer Echo makes
To music at night,
When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes,
And far away, o'er lawns and lakes,
Goes answering light.

For, bless the gude mon, gin he had his ain way,
He's na let a cat on the Sabbath read more

For, bless the gude mon, gin he had his ain way,
He's na let a cat on the Sabbath say "mew;"
Nae birdie maun whistle, nae lambie maun play,
An' Phoebus himsel' could na travel that day,
As he'd find a new Joshua in Andie Agnew.

Take up the cross if thou the crown would'st gain.
[Lat., Tolle crucem, qui vis auferre coronam.]

Take up the cross if thou the crown would'st gain.
[Lat., Tolle crucem, qui vis auferre coronam.]

Together kneeling, night and day,
Thou, for my sake, at Allah's shrine,
And I--at any God's for read more

Together kneeling, night and day,
Thou, for my sake, at Allah's shrine,
And I--at any God's for thine.