Verse > Padraic Colum > Anthology of Irish Verse
Padraic Colum (1881–1972).  Anthology of Irish Verse.  1922.
137. Thro’ Grief and Thro’ Danger
By Thomas Moore
THRO’ grief and thro’ danger thy smile hath cheer’d my way,
Till hope seem’d to bud from each thorn that round me lay;
The darker our fortune, the brighter our pure love burned,
Till shame into glory, till fear into zeal was turned,
Oh! slave as I was, in thy arms my spirit felt free,        5
And bless’d e’en the sorrows that made me more dear to thee.
Thy rival was honoured, while thou wert wronged and scorned;
Thy crown was of briers, while gold her brows adorned;
She woo’d me to temples, while thou lay’st hid in caves;
Her friends were all masters, while thine, alas! were slaves;        10
Yet, cold in the earth at thy feet I would rather be,
Than wed what I lov’d not, or turn one thought from thee.


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