Thomas Moore

This speck of life in time's great wilderness
This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas,
The past, read more

This speck of life in time's great wilderness
This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas,
The past, the future, two eternities!

There written all
Black as the damning drops that fall
From the denouncing Angel's pen,
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There written all
Black as the damning drops that fall
From the denouncing Angel's pen,
Ere Mercy weeps them out again.

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.

Cheek . . .
Flushing white and mellow'd red;
Gradual tints, as when there glows
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Cheek . . .
Flushing white and mellow'd red;
Gradual tints, as when there glows
In snowy milk the bashful rose.

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.