Page:Hearts of oak, or, The jolly tars of Great Britain.pdf/4

4 Where my forefathers liv'd, shall I spend the sweet hours, On cover my harp with the wild woven flowers, And strike the sweet numbers of Erin.go Bragh. Oh, Erin, my country, tho' sad and forsaken, In dreams I revifit thy sea-beaten shore! But, alas! in a far foreign land I awaken, And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more! Ah! thou, cruel Fate, wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace, where no peril can chase me? Ah! never again shall my brothers embrace me, They died to defend me, or live to deplore. Where now is my cabin-door, so daft by the wild word? Sifters and fire did weep for its fall! Where is the mother that look'd on my childhood ? And where is my bosom-friend, dearer than all ? Ah, my fad foul ! long abandon'd by pleasure, Why did it boat on a fast fading treasure ? Tears, like the rain, may fall without measure, But rapture and beauty they cannot recal. But yet all its fond recollections suppreſſing, One dying with my fond bosom shall draw,