Thomas Moore

May 28, 1780 - Feb 26, 1852

 

Come O'er The Sea

by Thomas Moore

Come o'er the sea,
Maiden! with me
Mine through sunshine, storm, and snows!
Seasons may roll,
But the true soul
Burns the same where'er it goes.
Let fate frown on, so we love and part not;
'Tis life where thou art, 'tis death where thou art not!
Then come o'er the sea,
Maiden! with me,
Come wherever the wild wind blows;
Seasons may roll,
But the true soul
Burns the same where'er it goes.

Is not the sea
Made for the free,
Land for courts and chains alone?
Here we are slaves,
But on the waves
Love and liberty's all our own;
No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us,
All earth forgot, and all heaven around us!
Then come o'er the sea,
Maiden with me,
Come wherever the wild wind blows;
Seasons may roll,
But the true soul
Burns the same where'er it goes.

Source:

The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore.
Copyright undated, very old
The Walter Scott Publishing Co. Ltd.