Stranica 1 [1]
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{
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