Page:Sailor's tragedy (4).pdf/5

 All you that know what to love belong,

Now you have heard my mournful song.

Be true to one whatever you mind,

And dont delude poor woman-kind.

 

There came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin;

The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill,

For his country he sighed when at twilight repairing

To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill:

But the day-star attracted his eyes sad devotion,

For it rose on his own native isle of the ocean,

Where once in the flow of his youthful emotion,

He sung the bold anthem of Erin Go Bragh.

Oh! sad is my fate, said the heart-broken stranger,

The wild deer and wolfe to a cover can flee,

But I have no refuge from famine or danger,

A home and a country remain not to me!

Ah! never again in the green sunny bow’rs,

Where my forefathers lived, shall I spend the sweet hours,

Or cover my harp with the wild woven flowers,

And strike to the numbers of Erin Go Bragh.