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Thomas Moore - Oh! Breathe Not His Name
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Oh! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, 
Where cold and unhonour`d his relics are laid: 
Sad, silent, and dark, be the tears that we shed, 
As the night-dew that falls on the grass o`er his head. 

But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps, 
Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps; 
And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, 
Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.
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