were’t the last drop in the well, As I gasp’d upon the brink

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!

 

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 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. 

 

[Lord Byron {George Gordon Byron, 6th Baron Byron FRS} {1788-1824}, 'To Thomas Moore' in Byron {Everyman's Library Pocket Poets}]