Thomas Campbell ( 10 of 46 )
On the green banks of Shannon, when Sheelah was nigh,
No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I;
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On the green banks of Shannon, when Sheelah was nigh,
No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I;
No harp like my own could so cheerily play,
And wherever I went was my poor dog Tray.
Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true:
Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you,
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Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true:
Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you,
For ye waft me to summers of old,
When the earth teem'd around me with fairy delight,
And when daisies and buttercups gladden'd my sight,
Like treasures of silver and gold.
In England three are sixty different religions, and only one
sauce.
[It., Il y en Angleterre soizante sectes read more
In England three are sixty different religions, and only one
sauce.
[It., Il y en Angleterre soizante sectes religieuses differentes,
et une seule sauce.]
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!
Our land, the first garden of liberty's tree--
It has been, and shall be, the land of the free.
Our land, the first garden of liberty's tree--
It has been, and shall be, the land of the free.
Oh, leave this barren spot to me!
Spare, woodman, space the beechen tree!
Oh, leave this barren spot to me!
Spare, woodman, space the beechen tree!
When love came first to earth, the Spring
Spread rose-beds to receive him.
When love came first to earth, the Spring
Spread rose-beds to receive him.
United States, your banner wears
Two emblems--one of fame;
Alas! the other that it bears
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United States, your banner wears
Two emblems--one of fame;
Alas! the other that it bears
Reminds us of your shame.
Your banner's constellation types
White freedom with its stars,
But what's the meaning of the stripes?
They mean your negroes' scars.
For there no yew nor cypress spread their glom
But roses blossom'd each rustic tomb.
For there no yew nor cypress spread their glom
But roses blossom'd each rustic tomb.
