Sublime was the warning that liberty spoke, <br />And grand was the moment when Spaniards awoke <br />Into life and revenge from the conqueror's chain. <br />Oh, Liberty! let not this spirit have rest, <br />Till it move, like a breeze, o'er the waves of the west -- <br />Give the light of your look to each sorrowing spot, <br />Nor, oh, be the Shamrock of Erin forgot <br />While you add to your garland the Olive of Spain. <br /> <br />If the fame of our fathers, bequeathed with their rights, <br />Give to country its charm, and to home its delights; <br />If deceit be a wound, and suspicion a stain, <br />Then, ye men of Iberia, our cause is the same! <br />And oh! may his tomb want a tear and a name, <br />Who would ask for a nobler, a holier death, <br />Than to turn his last sigh into victory's breath, <br />For the Shamrock of Erin and the Olive of Spain! <br /> <br />Ye Blakes and O'Donnels, whose fathers resign'd <br />The green hills of their youth, among strangers to find <br />That repose which, at home, they had sigh'd for in vain, <br />Join, join in our hope that the flame, which you light, <br />May be felt yet in Erin, as calm and as bright, <br />And forgive even Albion while blushing she draws, <br />Like a truant, her sword, in the long-slighted cause <br />Of the Shamrock of Erin and Olive of Spain! <br /> <br />God prosper the cause! -- oh, it cannot but thrive, <br />While the pulse of one patriot heart is alive, <br />Its devotion to feel, and its rights to maintain; <br />Then, how sainted by sorrow its martyrs will die! <br />The finger of Glory shall point where they lie; <br />While, far from the footstep of coward or slave, <br />The young spirit of Freedom shall shelter their grave, <br />Beneath Shamrocks of Erin and Olives of Spain!<br /><br />Thomas Moore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sublime-was-the-warning/
