Talk not of temples--there is one
Built without hands, to mankind given;
Its lamps are the meridian sun,
And all the stars of heaven;
...
There is a pang for every heart,
A tear for every eye;
There is a knell for every ear,
For every breast a sigh.
...
I neither got promise of siller nor land
With the bonnie wee darling who gave me her hand;
...
Let wrapt musicians strike the lyre,
While plaudits shake the vaulted fane;
Let warriors rush through flood and fire,
A never-dying name to gain;
...
Oh! the sunny peaches glow,
And the grapes in clusters blush;
And the cooling silver streams
...
Now the beams of May morn
On the mountains are streaming,
And the dews on the corn
...
The tempest is raging
And rending the shrouds;
The ocean is waging
A war with the clouds;
...