Daniel Martin Moore - The Old Measure lyrics

As a sigh comes finally At the end of a regret Some things are just impossible To forget My affections and reflections The many irons in a lasting burn And each extracts its due In its own turn Our small measure, the old measure Our muscle our mettle our nerve May temper but can't change What we deserve I have read by my own dim light And of these matters at hand I recount to you What truths i can Our small measure, the old measure Our muscle our mettle our nerve May temper but can't change What we deserve