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The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore

Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes
  

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PEACE TO THE SLUMBERERS!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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199

PEACE TO THE SLUMBERERS!

[_]

(Catalonian Air.)

Peace to the slumberers!
They lie on the battle-plain,
With no shroud to cover them;
The dew and the summer rain
Are all that weep over them.
Peace to the slumberers!
Vain was their bravery!—
The fallen oak lies where it lay,
Across the wintry river;
But brave hearts, once swept away,
Are gone, alas! for ever.
Vain was their bravery!
Woe to the conqueror!
Our limbs shall lie as cold as theirs
Of whom his sword bereft us,
Ere we forget the deep arrears
Of vengeance they have left us!
Woe to the conqueror!