 | Metrical Effusions |  |
62
THE EXILE'S RETURN.
The sun from the east with his brightness was cheering
The sailor's glad eyes, now approaching to land,
When, past anguish forgetting, the Exile of Erin,
O'er the strings of his harp flung a tremulous hand;
For his heart was with exquisite agony beating,
In anticipation he welcom'd the greeting
Of kindred and friends, while with rapture repeating
The strain long remember'd of Erin-go-bragh!
The sailor's glad eyes, now approaching to land,
When, past anguish forgetting, the Exile of Erin,
O'er the strings of his harp flung a tremulous hand;
For his heart was with exquisite agony beating,
In anticipation he welcom'd the greeting
Of kindred and friends, while with rapture repeating
The strain long remember'd of Erin-go-bragh!
63
Through the silence of night he had watch'd with devotion
The eastern horizon, expecting the dawn
To arise on his own “sweetest isle of the ocean”;
With a glow of delight he now hail'd the glad morn.
Lovely hope, and gay fancy their impulse extending,
And rapture and fear, were alternately blending,
In his heart all his Feelings were vainly contending,
As he rais'd the glad anthem of Erin-go-bragh!
The eastern horizon, expecting the dawn
To arise on his own “sweetest isle of the ocean”;
With a glow of delight he now hail'd the glad morn.
Lovely hope, and gay fancy their impulse extending,
And rapture and fear, were alternately blending,
In his heart all his Feelings were vainly contending,
As he rais'd the glad anthem of Erin-go-bragh!
Hail! Erin, my country, ah! long have I, banish'd
To a far distant climate, in agony mourn'd;
But now, at thy smile, every sorrow has vanish'd,
Again to thy shore is the Exile return'd.
Once more in the Land of my Fathers I'll waken
The lay of my youth, long through sorrow forsaken;
And, with rapturous joy, early transports partaking
Will sing to the numbers of Erin-go-bragh!
To a far distant climate, in agony mourn'd;
But now, at thy smile, every sorrow has vanish'd,
Again to thy shore is the Exile return'd.
Once more in the Land of my Fathers I'll waken
The lay of my youth, long through sorrow forsaken;
And, with rapturous joy, early transports partaking
Will sing to the numbers of Erin-go-bragh!
64
Awake! my sad heart, former mis'ry effacing,
Let pleasure once more prompt to hail the glad morn;
Nor let recollection, past anguish retracing,
Cast a shade o'er the rays which yon mountain adorn:
Soon, soon shall these arms, to my heart fondly pressing
The friend of my youth, every virtue possessing,
Be again strung with vigour, receiving his blessing
To strike my dear harp, and sing Erin-go-bragh!
Let pleasure once more prompt to hail the glad morn;
Nor let recollection, past anguish retracing,
Cast a shade o'er the rays which yon mountain adorn:
Soon, soon shall these arms, to my heart fondly pressing
The friend of my youth, every virtue possessing,
Be again strung with vigour, receiving his blessing
To strike my dear harp, and sing Erin-go-bragh!
Graclous Father of Mercy! Protector of Erin!
Oh thou whose dread presence inspires me with awe!
Deign to smile on my country, now bright reappearing,
And bless the lov'd measure of Erin-go-bragh!
When the tide of existence is languidly flowing,
Still may the dear theme, youthful vigour bestowing,
Inspire me to sing, while with ecstasy glowing
Erin mavournin! Erin-go-bragh!
Oh thou whose dread presence inspires me with awe!
Deign to smile on my country, now bright reappearing,
And bless the lov'd measure of Erin-go-bragh!
When the tide of existence is languidly flowing,
Still may the dear theme, youthful vigour bestowing,
Inspire me to sing, while with ecstasy glowing
Erin mavournin! Erin-go-bragh!
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