| Padraic Colum (1881–1972). Anthology of Irish Verse. 1922. |
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| 137. Thro’ Grief and Thro’ Danger |
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| By Thomas Moore |
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| 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. | |
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| 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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