126
the irish exile's address to america.
Birds had sought a kindlier climate
'Neath the myrtle's gentle shade,
Or amid the orange flowers,
Their little nests had made.
'Neath the myrtle's gentle shade,
Or amid the orange flowers,
Their little nests had made.
Home, with all its fond endearments,
"Home, sweet home," was far away;
Not a single thought had cheered me
Through that live-long winter's day:
Then came worn and weary slumbers,
Sadly broken through the night;
But I woke and saw thy banners
Proudly floating in the light.
"Home, sweet home," was far away;
Not a single thought had cheered me
Through that live-long winter's day:
Then came worn and weary slumbers,
Sadly broken through the night;
But I woke and saw thy banners
Proudly floating in the light.
Then I murmured, Erin! Erin!
Thou bright Emerald of the sea,
Fain I'd linger always near thee,
But, alas! thou art not free;
Tyrant hands have strongly bound thee,
Fettered power and might and will,
Yet thou still art precious to me:
"With thy faults, I love thee still."
Thou bright Emerald of the sea,
Fain I'd linger always near thee,
But, alas! thou art not free;
Tyrant hands have strongly bound thee,
Fettered power and might and will,
Yet thou still art precious to me:
"With thy faults, I love thee still."
