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His heart wild was beating, when softly assail'd him,
 * The sound of a harp-O! he listen'd with joy!

His quick’ning emotions his visage reveal'd them,
 * And the fire of his country beam'd strong from his
 * eye!

A sweet female voice soon the love-strains attended; Twas dear to his fond soul, that o'er it suspended, With each note the spirits of feeling ascended,
 * Sung soft to the accents of Erin go bragh.

I once had a lover, thus ran the sweet numbers,
 * Now doom'd far from me and his country to
 * mourn

Perhaps in the cold bed of death ev'n he slumbers:
 * Ah, my soul, canst thou think he shall never return!

Yes, he shall, for he lives, and, his past woes re-
 * dressing

His country shall claim him with smiles and cares-
 * sing,

And, lock'd in my arms, He'll pronounce her his
 * blessing,

That country which wrong'd him, his Erin go bragh.

Is a lamb he was meek, as a dove he was tender,
 * And form'd was his bosom for friendship and love;

But, call'd by his country. still swift to defend her,
 * Undaunted and fierce as the eagle he'd move!