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HYLAXD'S MAMMOTH |
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WHEN MIDST THE GAY I MEET.
When midst the gay I meet
That gentle smile of thine, Tho' still on me it turns most sweet,
I scarce can call it mine, But, when to me alone
Your secret tears you show, Oh! then I feel those tears my own,
And claim them while they flow. Then still with bright look bless
The gay, the cold, the free; Give smiles to those who love you less,
But keep your tears for me. |
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DEAR OLD IRELAND.
Deep In Canadian woods we've met.
From one bright Island flown; Great Is the land we tread, but yet
Our hearts are with our own; And ere we leave this shanty small, While fades the Autumn day, We'll toast old Ireland! Dear old Ireland! Ireland, boys, Hurrah!
We've heard her faults a hundred times,
The new ones and the old, In songs and sermons, rants and rhymes,
Enlarged some fifty-fold. But take them all, the great and small, And this we've got to say: Here's dear old Ireland! Gtood old Ireland! Ireland, boys, Hurrah!
We know that brave and good men tried
To snap her rusty chain. That patriots suffered, martyrs died,
And all, 'tis said, in vain; But no, boys, no! a glance will show How far they've won their way. Here's good old Ireland! Lov'd old Ireland! Ireland, boys, Hurrah!
We've seen the wedding and the wake,
The pattern and the fair; They stuff they take, the fun they make, And the heads they break down there, With a loud "hurroo" and a "phillaloo," And a thundering "Clear the way." Here's gay old Ireland! Dear old Ireland! Ireland,'boys, Hurrah!
And well we know. In the cool grey eves,
When the hard day's work Is o'er, How soft and sweet are the words that greet
The friends who meet once more, With "Mary Machree!" and "My Pat, 'tis he!" And "My own heart night and day!" Ah, fond old Ireland! Dear old Ireland! Ireland, boys. Hurrah! |
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