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HIBERNIAN SONGSTER. |
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MY HEART'S IN OLD IRELAND.
My bark on the billow dash'd gloriously on, And glad were the notes of the sailor-boy's song; Yet sad was my bosom and bursting with woe, For my heart's in old Ireland wherever I go,
Oh! my heart's in old Ireland wherever I go. More dear than the flowers that Italy yields, Are the red-breasted daisies that spangle thy fields. The shamrock, the hawthorn, the white blossom sloe. For my heart's in old Ireland wherever I go.
Oh! my heart's, etc. The shores they look lovely, yet cheerless and vain Bloom the lilies of France, and the olives of Spain; When I think of the fields where the wild daisies grow, Then my heart's in old Ireland wherever I go.
Oh! my heart's, etc. The lilies and roses abandon the plains. Though the summer's gone by, still the shamrock remains, Like a friend in misfortune it blossoms o'er the snow; For my heart's In old Ireland wherever I go,
Oh! my heart's, etc. I sigh and I vow, it e'er I get home, No more from my dear native cottage I'll roam; The harp shall resound, and the goblet shall flow. For my heart's in old Ireland wherever I go,
Oh! my heart's, etc. |
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LIMERICK IS BEAUTIFUL.
Limerick is beautiful.
As everybody knows, The river Shannon, full of fish,
Through that city flows; But 'tis not the river or the fish,
That weighs upon my mind. Nor with the town of Limerick
I've any fault to find.
Ochone, ochont.
The girl I love Is beautiful,
And soft-eyed as the fawn, She lives In Garryowen,
And is called the Colleen Bawn, And proudly as that river flows
Through that famed city, As proudly and without a word
That colleen goes by me.
Ochone, ochone.
If I was made the Emperor
Of Russia to command, Or Julius Caesar, or the
Lord Lieutenant of the land, I'd give my plate and golden store, * I'd give up my army, The horses, the rifles, and the foot,
And the Royal Artillery.
Ochone, ochon«.
I'd give the crown from off my head,
My people on their knees, I'd give the fleet of sailing ships
Upon the briny seas; A beggar I would go to bed.
And nappy rise at dawn,— If by my side for my sweet bride
I had feund my Colleen Bawn.
Qch*ae, •ekons. |
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