Oldal 1 [1]
OCR Output

ce
{

Vesna ary

Bint

3 _A.Favorite Song called
| THE

Poor Irish Stranger,

Far from his home. —

O pity the fate of a poor Irish stranger,

. That wandercd thus far from his home ;

I sigh for protection from want woe and danger,
But I know not which way now to roam ;

I ne‘er shall return to Hlibernia’s green bowers,
Where tyrants have trampled the sweetest of

flowers, ;
They gave company to me ia tho loneliest hours,

But they're gone—I shall ne’er sce them more.

With wonder I gazed on the high lofty mountain
' _ Asin grandeur it rose from its Lord,
And with sorrow bekeld my own garden yielding
The ohoicost of fruit for it board ;
But’ where is my father’s low cottage of clay,
W here I’ve spent many a loug happy dayf
yilas, has his lordship contrived it away ?
Yes, tis gone, 1 shall ue’ex see it more.

hd

| a the slow and the berry hung ripe on the

busheg, — !
~ I gathered them off without harm,
© And I've gone to the fields, where I;ve shorn the

.. green bushes, |
_._ Preparing for winter’s cold storm ;

I have sat by the fire on a cold winter’s niget,
_ Along with my friends telling tales of delight,
“| Those days gave me pleasure, and | eould invite,

But they’re gone, I shall ne’er see them more.

>

Oh, Erin, sad Erin, it grieves me to ponder,
The wrongs of thy lovg injured Isle—
Thy sons many thousands deploring to wander,
On shores far away in exile; _
But give me the power to cross over the main,
America might yield me some shelter from pain
I’m only lamenting while here I remain,
For the joys I shall never see more.

Farewell then to Erin, and ali those left weeping
Upon thy disconsolate shore, ¢
Farewell to the grave where my father lies sleep¬

, ing,
The ground I will ever adore.
Farewell to each pleasure, I once had a home,
. Farewell now a strangey in England I roam,
Oh, give me my freedom or give me my home.
Wer; in pity, I'll ask for no more,

Haly, Printer, Gerk

“

© The Board of Trinity College Dublin