 | Experiences |  |
48
AT EUSTON STATION.
Yon is the train I used to take
In the good days of yore,
When I went home for love's dear sake,
I who go home no more.
In the good days of yore,
When I went home for love's dear sake,
I who go home no more.
The station lights flare in the wind,
The night is blurred with rain,
And there was someone, old and kind,
Who will not come again.
The night is blurred with rain,
And there was someone, old and kind,
Who will not come again.
Oh, that's an Irish voice I hear,
And that's an Irish face,
And these will come when dawn is near
To the beloved place.
And that's an Irish face,
And these will come when dawn is near
To the beloved place.
And these will see when day is grey
And lightest winds are still
The long coast-line by Dublin Bay
With exquisite hill on hill.
And lightest winds are still
The long coast-line by Dublin Bay
With exquisite hill on hill.
I would not follow if I might
Who came so oft of old;
No window-pane holds me a light,
The warm hearth-fire is cold.
Who came so oft of old;
No window-pane holds me a light,
The warm hearth-fire is cold.
There is the train I used to take.
Be blest from shore to shore,
O land of love and of heart-break!
But I go home no more.
Be blest from shore to shore,
O land of love and of heart-break!
But I go home no more.
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