Thomas Campbell

There was silence deep as death;
And the boldest held his breath,
For a time.

There was silence deep as death;
And the boldest held his breath,
For a time.

Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame,
The power of grace, the magic of a name.

Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame,
The power of grace, the magic of a name.

Auspicious Hope! in thy sweet garden grow
Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe.

Auspicious Hope! in thy sweet garden grow
Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe.

Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps;
Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps;
She, while read more

Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps;
Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps;
She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies,
Smiles on her slumbering child with pensive eyes.

He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.

He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.