Oft In The Stilly Night
Thomas Moore
Oft in the stilly night
Ere slumber´s chains have bound me,
Fond memory brings the light
Of other days around me.
The smiles, the tears of boyhood years
The words of love then spoken,
The eyes that shone, now dimmed and gone,
The cheerful hearts now broken.

Thus in the stilly night
Ere slumber´s chain has bound me
Fond memory brings the light
Of other days around me.

When I remember all
The friends so linked together,
I´ve seen around me fall,
Like leaves in wintery weather
I feel like one who treads alone
Some banquet hall deserted
Whose lights are fled, whose garlands dead
And all but he departed.

Forget Not The Field

Forget not the field where they perished,
The truest, the last of the brave,
All gone, and the bright hope we cherished
Gone with them: quenched in the grave!

O! Could we from death but recover
Those hearts as they bounded before,
In the face of High Heaven to fight over
That combat for freedom once more!

Could the chain for one instant be riven,
Which tyranny flung round us then,
O! ´Tis not in Man nor in Heaven,
To let Tyranny bind it again!

But ´tis past, and tho´ blazoned in story
The name of our victor may be,
Accursed is the march of that glory,
Which treads o´er the hearts of the free.

Far dearer the grave or the prison
Illum´d by one patriot name,
Than the trophies of all who have risen
On Liberty´s ruins to fame!