Thomas Moore

Yet, who can help loving the land that has taught us
Six hundred and eighty-five ways to dress eggs?

Yet, who can help loving the land that has taught us
Six hundred and eighty-five ways to dress eggs?

Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print.

Though an angel should write, still 'tis devils must print.

How calm, how beautiful comes on
The stilly hour, when storms are gone!
When warring winds have read more

How calm, how beautiful comes on
The stilly hour, when storms are gone!
When warring winds have died away,
And clouds, beneath the glancing ray,
Melt off, and leave the land and sea
Sleeping in bright tranquillity.

I find the doctors and the sages
Have differ'd in all climes and ages,
And two in read more

I find the doctors and the sages
Have differ'd in all climes and ages,
And two in fifty scarce agree
On what is pure morality.

Shall I ask the brave soldier, who fights by my side
In the cause of mankind, if our creeds read more

Shall I ask the brave soldier, who fights by my side
In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree?
Shall I give up the friend I have valued and tried,
If he kneel not before the same altar with me?
From the heretic girl of my soul should I fly,
To seek somewhere else a more orthodox kiss?
No! perish the hearts, and the laws that try
Truth, valour, or love, by a standard like this!