Irish Melodies/How dear to me the hour when day-light dies

by Thomas Moore

HOW DEAR TO ME THE HOUR.

 

I.

How dear to me the hour when day-light dies,
And sunbeams melt along the silent sea,
For then sweet dreams of other days arise,
And memory breathes her vesper sigh to thee.

II.

And, as I watch the line of light, that plays
Along the smooth wave tow'rd the burning west,
I long to tread that golden path of rays,
And think 'twould lead to some bright isle of rest!

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