Thomas Moore

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.

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

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

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!

With what a deep devotedness of woe
I wept thy absence--o'er and o'er again
Thinking of thee, read more

With what a deep devotedness of woe
I wept thy absence--o'er and o'er again
Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain,
And memory, like a drop that, night and day,
Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!

To live with them is far less sweet,
Than to remember thee!

To live with them is far less sweet,
Than to remember thee!