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Erin, Oh Erin.

By Thomas Moore

Topics: classic

Like the bright lamp, that shone in Kildare's holy fane,[1]         And burn'd thro' long ages of darkness and storm,     Is the heart that sorrows have frowned on in vain,         Whose spirit outlives them, unfading and warm.     Erin, oh Erin, thus bright thro' the tears     Of a long night of bondage, thy spirit appears.     The nations have fallen, and thou still art young,         Thy sun is but rising, when others are set;     And tho' slavery's cloud o'er thy morning hath hung,         The full noon of freedom shall beam round thee yet.     Erin, oh Erin, tho' long in the shade,     Thy star will shine out when the proudest shall fade.     Unchilled by the rain, and unwaked by the wind,         The lily lies sleeping thro' winter's cold hour,     Till Spring's light touch her fetters unbind,         And daylight and liberty bless the young flower.     Thus Erin, oh Erin, thy winter is past,     And the hope that lived thro' it shall blossom at last.

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"Like the bright lamp, that shone in Kildare's holy fane,[1]..."

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Author:Thomas Moore

"Like the bright lamp, that shone in Kildare's holy..." by Thomas Moore

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Thomas Moore

About Thomas Moore

Thomas Moore (1779–1852) was an Irish poet, singer, and songwriter best known for "Irish Melodies" (1808–1834), a collection of songs including "The Last Rose of Summer" and "Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms." He was the most popular poet of his era in the British Isles.

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