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.
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There ought to be system of manners in every nation which a
well-formed mind would be disposed to relish. read more
There ought to be system of manners in every nation which a
well-formed mind would be disposed to relish. To make us love
our country, our country ought to be lovely.
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.
And nobler is a limited command,
Given by the love of all your native land,
Than a read more
And nobler is a limited command,
Given by the love of all your native land,
Than a successive title, long and dark,
Drawn from the mouldy rolls of Noah's Ark.
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our read more
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee,--are all with thee!
Every Irishman has a potatoe in his head.
Every Irishman has a potatoe in his head.
Land of my sires! what mortal hand
Can e'er untie the filial band
That knits me to read more
Land of my sires! what mortal hand
Can e'er untie the filial band
That knits me to thy rugged strand!
Dear Erin, how sweetly thy green bosom rises!
An emerald set in the ring of the sea.
read more
Dear Erin, how sweetly thy green bosom rises!
An emerald set in the ring of the sea.
Each blade of thy meadows my faithful heart prizes,
Thou queen of the west, the world's cushla ma chree.
Eternal is the fact that the human creature born in Ireland and
brought up in its air is Irish. read more
Eternal is the fact that the human creature born in Ireland and
brought up in its air is Irish. I have lived for twenty years in
Ireland and for seventy-two in England; but the twenty came first
and in Britain I am still a foreigner and shall die one.
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.
