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His heart wild was beating, when softly assail'd him,
The sound of a harp-O! he listen'd with joy!
His quick’ning emotions his visage reveal'd them,
And the fire of his country beam'd strong from his
eye!
A sweet female voice soon the love-strains attended;
Twas dear to his fond soul, that o'er it suspended,
With each note the spirits of feeling ascended,
Sung soft to the accents of Erin go bragh.
I once had a lover, thus ran the sweet numbers,
Now doom'd far from me and his country to
mourn
Perhaps in the cold bed of death ev'n he slumbers:
Ah, my soul, canst thou think he shall never return!
Yes, he shall, for he lives, and, his past woes re-
dressing
His country shall claim him with smiles and cares-
sing,
And, lock'd in my arms, He'll pronounce her his
blessing,
That country which wrong'd him, his Erin go bragh.
Is a lamb he was meek, as a dove he was tender,
And form'd was his bosom for friendship and love;
But, call'd by his country. still swift to defend her,
Undaunted and fierce as the eagle he'd move!
