Thomas Moore

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.

I am nothing and to nothing tend,
On earth I nothing have and nothing claim,
Man's noblest read more

I am nothing and to nothing tend,
On earth I nothing have and nothing claim,
Man's noblest works must have one common end,
And nothing crown the tablet of his name.

Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eye read more

Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eye of vulgar light,
Begins to bloom for sons of night.

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.

O, the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock!
Chosen leaf
OF Bard and Chief,
Old read more

O, the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock!
Chosen leaf
OF Bard and Chief,
Old Erin's native Shamrock.