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.
You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Our country is that spot to which our heart is bound.
[Fr., La patrie est aux lieux ou l'ame read more
Our country is that spot to which our heart is bound.
[Fr., La patrie est aux lieux ou l'ame est enchainee.]
O, love is the soul of a true Irishman;
He loves all that's lovely, loves all that he can,
read more
O, love is the soul of a true Irishman;
He loves all that's lovely, loves all that he can,
With his sprig of shillelagh and shamrock so green.
If one could only teach the English how to talk, and the Irish
how to listen, society would be read more
If one could only teach the English how to talk, and the Irish
how to listen, society would be quite civilized.
The groves of Blarney
They look so charming
Down by the purling
Of sweet, read more
The groves of Blarney
They look so charming
Down by the purling
Of sweet, silent brooks.
He made all countries where he came his own.
He made all countries where he came his own.
My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.
My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.
Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my read more
Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd,
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd,
From wandering on a foreign strand!
An Irishman's heart is nothing but his imagination.
An Irishman's heart is nothing but his imagination.
When law can stop the blades of grass from growing as they grow;
And when the leaves in Summer-time read more
When law can stop the blades of grass from growing as they grow;
And when the leaves in Summer-time their colour dare not show;
Then will I change the colour too, I wear in my caubeen;
But till that day, plaze God, I'll stick to wearin' o' the Green.
