Oldal 1 [1]
OCR
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
