1.
My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on the sea;
But, before I go, Tom Moore,
Here's a double health to thee!
2.
Here's a sigh to those who love me,
And a smile to those who hate;
And, whatever sky's above me,
Here's a heart for every fate.
3.
Though the Ocean roar around me,
Yet it still shall bear me on;
Though a desert shall surround me,
It hath springs that may be won.
4.
Were't the last drop in the well,
As I gasped upon the brink,
Ere my fainting spirit fell,
'T is to thee that I would drink.
5.
With that water, as this wine,
The libation I would pour
Should be—peace with thine and mine,
And a health to thee, Tom Moore.
July, 1817.
[First published, Waltz, London, W. Benbow, 1821, p. 29.]