From “Irish Melodies”. 85. Oh For the Swords of Former Time
OH for the swords of former time!
Oh for the men who bore them,
When, arm’d for Right, they stood sublime,
And tyrants crouch’d before them:
When free yet, ere courts began
With honours to enslave him,
The best honours worn by Man
Were those which Virtue gave him.
Oh for the swords, etc., etc.
Oh for the Kings who flourish’d then!
Oh for the pomp that crown’d them,
When hearts and hands of freeborn men
Were all the ramparts round them.
When, safe built on bosoms true,
The throne was but the centre,
Round which Love a circle drew
That Treason durst not enter.
Oh, for the Kings who flourish’d then!
Oh for the pomp that crown’d them,
When hearts and hands of freeborn men
Were all the ramparts round them!
Thomas Moore’s other poems:
