Place me on Sunium's marbled steep,
Where nothing, save the waves and I,
May hear our mutual murmurs sweep;
There, swan-like, let me sing and die:
A land of slaves shall ne'er be mine—
Dash down yon cup of Samian wine!
[XXXVI]. GO WHERE GLORY WAITS THEE.
Thomas Moore.—1779-1852.
Go where glory waits thee;
But, while fame elates thee,
O, still remember me!
When the praise thou meetest
To thine ear is sweetest,
O, then remember me!
Other arms may press thee,
Dearer friends caress thee,
All the joys that bless thee
Sweeter far may be;
But when friends are nearest,
And when joys are dearest,
O, then remember me!
When, at eve, thou rovest
By the star thou lovest,
O, then remember me!
Think, when home returning,
Bright we've seen it burning,
O, thus remember me!
Oft as summer closes,
When thine eye reposes
On its lingering roses,
Once so lov'd by thee,
Think of her who wove them,
Her who made thee love them,
O, then remember me!
When, around thee dying,
Autumn leaves are lying,
O, then remember me!
And, at night, when gazing
On the gay hearth blazing,
O, still remember me!
Then, should music, stealing
All the soul of feeling,
To thy heart appealing,
Draw one tear from thee;
Then let memory bring thee
Strains I used to sing thee,—
O, then remember me!