Oh! Breathe Not His Name
Eleanor McEvoy, Thomas Moore
Oh! Breathe not his name! let it sleep in the shade
Where cold and unhonored 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, 5
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
Oh! Breathe not his name! let it sleep in the shade
Where cold and unhonored 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
Grass o'er his head
Grass o'er his head
Grass o'er his head
