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Thomas Moore - Drink To Her
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Drink to her who long 
   Hath waked the poet`s sigh, 
The girl who gave to song 
   What gold could never buy. 
Oh! woman`s heart was made 
   For minstrel hands alone; 
By other fingers play`d, 
   It yields not half the tone. 
Then here`s to her who long 
   Hath waked the poet`s sigh, 
The girl who gave to song 
   What gold could never buy. 

At Beauty`s door of glass, 
   When Wealth and Wit once stood, 
They ask`d her, "which might pass?" 
   She answer`d, "he who could." 
With golden key Wealth thought 
   To pass — but `twould not do: 
While Wit a diamond brought, 
   Which cut his bright way through. 
So here`s to her who long 
   Hath waked the poet`s sigh, 
The girl who gave to song 
   What gold could never buy. 

The love that seeks a home 
   Where wealth or grandeur shines, 
Is like the gloomy gnome, 
   That dwells in dark mines. 
But oh! the poet`s love 
   Can boast a brighter sphere; 
Its native home`s above, 
   Though woman keeps it here. 
Then drink to her who long 
   Hath waked the poet`s sigh, 
The girl who gave to song 
   What gold could never buy.
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