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Thomas Moore - I Wish I Was By That Dim Lake
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I wish I was by that dim Lake,
Where sinful souls their farewell take 
Of this vain world, and half-way lie 
In death`s cold shadow, ere they die. 
There, there, far from thee, 
Deceitful world, my home should be; 
Where, come what might of gloom and pain, 
False hope should n`er deceive again. 

The lifeless sky, the mournful sound 
Of unseen waters falling round; 
The dry leaves, quivering o`er my head, 
Like man, unquiet even when dead! 
These, ay, these shall wean 
My soul from life`s deluding scene, 
And turn each thought, o`ercharged with gloom 
Like willows, downward towards the tomb. 

As they, who to their couch at night 
Would win repose, first quench the light, 
So must the hopes, that keep this breast 
Awake, be quench`d, ere it can rest. 
Cold, cold, this heart must grow, 
Unmmoved by either joy or woe, 
Like freezing founts, where all that`s thrown 
Within their current turns to stone.
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