Though The Last Glimpse Of Erin With Sorrow I See

by Thomas Moore (1779-1852) Though the last glimpse of Erin with sorrow I see, Yet wherever thou art shall seem Erin to me; In exile thy bosom shall still be my home, And thine eyes make my climate wherever we roam. To the gloom of some desert or cold rocky shore, Where the eye ofContinue reading “Though The Last Glimpse Of Erin With Sorrow I See”