 | The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill |  |
GREEN INISMORE.
How light is my heart as I journey along,
Now my perilous service is o'er!
I think on sweet home, and I carol a song
In remembrance of her I adore.
How sad was the hour when I bade her adieu!
Her tears spoke her grief, though her words were but few;
She hung on my bosom, and sighed, O be true,
When you're far from the green Inismore.
Now my perilous service is o'er!
I think on sweet home, and I carol a song
In remembrance of her I adore.
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Her tears spoke her grief, though her words were but few;
She hung on my bosom, and sighed, O be true,
When you're far from the green Inismore.
Ah! Eveleen, my love! hadst thou seen this fond breast,
How, at parting, it bled to its core,
Thou hadst there seen thine image so deeply imprest,
That thou ne'er couldst have doubted me more.
For my king and my country undaunted I fought,
And braved all the hardships of war as I ought,
But the day never rose saw thee strange to my thought,
Since I left thee in green Inismore.
How, at parting, it bled to its core,
Thou hadst there seen thine image so deeply imprest,
That thou ne'er couldst have doubted me more.
For my king and my country undaunted I fought,
And braved all the hardships of war as I ought,
But the day never rose saw thee strange to my thought,
Since I left thee in green Inismore.
Ye dear native mountains that tower on my view,
What joys to my mind ye restore!
The past happy scenes of my life ye renew,
And ye ne'er seemed so charming before.
In the rapture of fancy already I spy
My kindred and friends crowding round me with joy;
But my Eveleen, sweet girl, there 's a far dearer tie
Binds this heart to the green Inismore.
What joys to my mind ye restore!
The past happy scenes of my life ye renew,
And ye ne'er seemed so charming before.
In the rapture of fancy already I spy
My kindred and friends crowding round me with joy;
But my Eveleen, sweet girl, there 's a far dearer tie
Binds this heart to the green Inismore.
| The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill | |