Thomas Campbell

He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.

He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.

Ye mariners of England!
That guard our native seas;
Whose flag has braved a thousand years,
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Ye mariners of England!
That guard our native seas;
Whose flag has braved a thousand years,
The battle and the breeze!

What's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod
Its Maker mean'd not should be trod
By man, the read more

What's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod
Its Maker mean'd not should be trod
By man, the image of his God,
Erect and free,
Unscourged by Superstition's rod.

Cease, every joy, to glimmer in my mind,
But leave,--oh! leave the light of Hope behind!

Cease, every joy, to glimmer in my mind,
But leave,--oh! leave the light of Hope behind!

There came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and read more

There came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill;
For his country he sigh'd, when at twilight repairing.
To wander along by the wind-beaten hill.
But the day star attracted his eyes' sad devotion,
For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean,
Where once in the fire of his youthful emotion
He sang the bold anthem of Erin-go-bragh.