My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea; But, before I go, Tom Moore, Here's a double health to thee! Though the ocean roar around me, Yet it still shall bear me on; Though a desert should surround me, It hath springs that may be won. Were 't the last drop in the well, As I gasped upon the brink, Ere my fainting spirit fell, 'Tis to thee that I would drink. With that water, as this wine, The libation I would pour Should be, ‘Peace with thine and mine, And a health to thee, Tom Moore!’ Byron. |