The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore Collected by Himself. In Ten Volumes |
![]() | I, II. |
![]() | III, IV. |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
HERE SLEEPS THE BARD. |
![]() |
![]() | V. |
![]() | VI, VII. |
![]() | VIII, IX. |
![]() | X. |
![]() | The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ![]() |
219
HERE SLEEPS THE BARD.
Here sleeps the Bard who knew so wellAll the sweet windings of Apollo's shell;
Whether its music roll'd like torrents near,
Or died, like distant streamlets, on the ear.
Sleep, sleep, mute bard; alike unheeded now
The storm and zephyr sweep thy lifeless brow;—
That storm, whose rush is like thy martial lay;
That breeze which, like thy love-song, dies away!
![]() | The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore | ![]() |