And my bark is on the sea;
But, before I go, Tom Moore,
Here's a double health to thee!

"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.

"Though the ocean roar around me,
Yet it still shall bear me on;
Though a desert should surround me,
It hath springs that may be won.

"Were't the last drop in the well,
As I gasp'd upon the brink,
Ere my fainting spirit fell,
'Tis to thee that I would drink.

"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.

"This should have been written fifteen moons ago--the first stanza
was. I am just come out from an hour's swim in the Adriatic; and I
write to you with a black-eyed Venetian girl before me, reading
Boccacio.

"Last week I had a row on the road (I came up to Venice from my