129. The Emigrant's Song

Alas! o'er Erin's lessening shor^
The flush of day is fading,
And coldly round us ocean roars.
The exiled heart upbraiding.
It tells of those whose pining love
Must cross the seas to find us,
And of the dead at peace above.
Whose graves we leave behind us.

Ah! we shall meet no green like thine,
Erin! where we are going:
No waters to our eyes can shine
Like Shannon proudly flowing;
No sea-bays we can love so well
As that round Cove extending,
No fragrance like the peat-fire's smell
In evening's calm ascending.

Poor heart! God knows how sore and long
The fight hath been within it;
The battle lies not with the strong,
Or our love of home might win it:
We could not bear from wife's dear eyes
Each day to miss the shining,
As oft she strove to hush the cries
Of babes in famine pining.

The very joy of all this earth,
The blessed name of Jesus,
They turned what was our holiest mirth
To Satan's snare to tease us.
He sent his troops, with food in hand,
To their false faith to woo us;
To take the blessing from our land,
And eternally undo us..

*Twas hard to watch the wastuig child,
Nor take the bribe thus given;
Ah, me! a father's heart gone wild,
For earth might barter heaven:
The men of stone, they watched their hour,
Darkness and lip-ht were strivinor- •
But Jesus tempered hunger's power,
We conquered and are living.

And now into that sunset far
Across the western waters,
Freedom of faith and plenty's star
Lead Erin's sons and daughters.
Dear friends at home! whene'er ye grieve,
Prayer o'er the sea can find us,
And to our native land we leave
Blessing and love behind us.