THE IRISH EXILE'S ADDRESS TO AMERICA.
Cold and dreary blew the night winds,
Sad, oh! sad this heart of mine,
When, like some lone pilgrim weary,
First I sought these shores of thine:
Stars and stripes were proudly floating,
Freely fluttering in the breeze,
Which, with low and solemn cadence,
Sighed amid the leafless trees.
Sad, oh! sad this heart of mine,
When, like some lone pilgrim weary,
First I sought these shores of thine:
Stars and stripes were proudly floating,
Freely fluttering in the breeze,
Which, with low and solemn cadence,
Sighed amid the leafless trees.
Many a broad and shining river,
Like fair sheets of silver lay;
Snow-capped hills and towering mountains
Glittered 'neath the moon's soft ray;
Like fair sheets of silver lay;
Snow-capped hills and towering mountains
Glittered 'neath the moon's soft ray;
