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voices from the old world.
And dead, unburied babes are left
To waste upon the air,
And mothers wan and fever-worn
Beside their hearths are sinking,
And maiden forms, while yet in life,
To skeletons are shrinking!
To waste upon the air,
And mothers wan and fever-worn
Beside their hearths are sinking,
And maiden forms, while yet in life,
To skeletons are shrinking!
Ho, freight the good ship to the wale,—
Pile high the golden grain!
A nation's life-boat spreads her sail,—
God speed her o'er the main!
His peace shall calm the stormy skies,
And rest upon the waters.
Give, give!—O Heaven, who would not give
When perish Erin's daughters?
Pile high the golden grain!
A nation's life-boat spreads her sail,—
God speed her o'er the main!
His peace shall calm the stormy skies,
And rest upon the waters.
Give, give!—O Heaven, who would not give
When perish Erin's daughters?
