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Yon Sun that sets upon the sea
We follow in his flight;
Farewell awhile to him and read more
Yon Sun that sets upon the sea
We follow in his flight;
Farewell awhile to him and thee,
My native land--Good Night!
Our country is wherever we are well off.
[Lat., Patria est, ubicunque est bene.]
Our country is wherever we are well off.
[Lat., Patria est, ubicunque est bene.]
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!
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.
Who dare to love their country, and be poor.
Who dare to love their country, and be poor.
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!
My dear, my native soil!
For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent,
Long may thy read more
My dear, my native soil!
For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent,
Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil
Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!
From the lone shielding on the misty island
Mountains divide us, and the waste of seas--
But read more
From the lone shielding on the misty island
Mountains divide us, and the waste of seas--
But still the blood is strong, the heart is Highland,
And we in dreams behold the Hebrides.
They love their land, because it is their own,
And scorn to give aught other reason why;
read more
They love their land, because it is their own,
And scorn to give aught other reason why;
Would shake hands with a king upon his throne,
And think it kindness to his majesty.
