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HIBERNIAN SONGSTER. |
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To think 'twasn't you was come to it!
And faith, Katty Naile,
And her cow, I go ball,
Would jump, If I'd say,
"Kitty Naile, name the day." And though you're fair and fresh as a morning in May, While she's short and dark like a cold winter's day,
Yet if you don't repent
Before Easter, when Lent Is over, I'll marry for spite!
Och hone! weirasthru!
And when I die for you, My ghost will haunt you every night! |
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ACUSHLA GAL MACHREE.
The long, long wlshed-for hour has come,
But come, asthore, in vain, And left thee but the walling hum
Of sorrow and of pain; My light of life, my only love,
Thy portion sure must be Man's scorn below, God's wrath above—
Acushla gal machree.
'Twas told of thee the world around,
Was hoped for thee by all, That with one gallant sunward bound
Thou'd burst long ages' thrall; Thy fate was tried, alas! and thoso
Who periled all for thee Were cursed and branded as thy foes,
Acushla gal machree.
What fate Is thine, unhappy isle,
That e'en the trusted few Should pay thee back with fraud and guile
When most they should be true? 'Twas not thy strength or courage failed.
Nor those whose souls were free; By moral force wert thou betrayed,
Acushla gal machree. |
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0, ERIN, MY COUNTRY!
O, Erin, my country! though strangers may roam The hills and the valleys I once called my own, Thy lakes and thy mountains no longer I see, Yet warmly as ever my heart beats for thee.
O cushiamachree,
My heart beats for thee;
Erin! Erin! my heart beats for thee.
Though years have rolled over since last time we met, Yet lived I a thousand I could not forget The true hearts that loved me, the bright eyes that shone Like stars in the heavens, of days that are gone.
O cushiamachree, etc'
Dear home of my youth, I may see thee no more; Yet memory treasures the bright days of yore, And my heart's latest wish, the last sigh of my breast, Shall be given to thee, dearest land of the west.
0 cushiamachree, etc. |
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