by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852)

Elegy
Language: English 
Oh! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade,
Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid:
Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears that we shed,
As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head.

But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps,
Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps;
And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls,
Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2003-10-19
Line count: 8
Word count: 79