Poem by Thomas Moore

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!

1. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 52
2. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 38
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 54
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 56
5. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 17

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