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65
ERIN'S SON IN AMERICA.
From lovely Erin, sad, I come,
Across the rolling sea,
In stranger land to seek a home,—
A home of Liberty!
My green and flowery native Isle,
Thy bloom is lost to me!
But where is Nature's sweetest smile?
Where, but among the free?
Across the rolling sea,
In stranger land to seek a home,—
A home of Liberty!
My green and flowery native Isle,
Thy bloom is lost to me!
But where is Nature's sweetest smile?
Where, but among the free?
Yet I 've not left dear Ireland where
Between us floods can roll;
For here with filial love I bear
My country on my soul!
Columbia, who her woes can feel,
With pity's heart, like thee?
Thou 'lt breathe, o'er wounds thou canst not heal,
Warm sighs to make her free.
Between us floods can roll;
For here with filial love I bear
My country on my soul!
Columbia, who her woes can feel,
With pity's heart, like thee?
Thou 'lt breathe, o'er wounds thou canst not heal,
Warm sighs to make her free.
Thy flag, that waves around the world,
In thy dark infant years
Was first by strife and storms unfurled;
Its stars were lit from tears.
But when shall Erin's harp, that moans
Beneath the cypress-tree,
Proclaim, with rapture in its tones,
Her own dear children free?
In thy dark infant years
Was first by strife and storms unfurled;
Its stars were lit from tears.
But when shall Erin's harp, that moans
Beneath the cypress-tree,
Proclaim, with rapture in its tones,
Her own dear children free?
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