Poems (Edwards)/The Irish Emigrant's Farewell
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THE IRISH EMIGRANT'S FAREWELL.
Farewell! farewell! my native land,
I leave, I leave thee now,
I leave thee, but no eye shall see
A shadow on my brow;
They shall not know the pangs I feel,
They shall not know that I
Am weak enough to drop a tear,
In bidding thee good bye.
I leave, I leave thee now,
I leave thee, but no eye shall see
A shadow on my brow;
They shall not know the pangs I feel,
They shall not know that I
Am weak enough to drop a tear,
In bidding thee good bye.
Yet 'tis not weakness, no, oh no!
To weep o'er things I leave,
For thee, my native land, for thee
Ten thousand bosoms grieve;
For thee ten thousand hearts do mourn,
For thee unnumbered cries
Go upward from thy toiling sons,
Like incense to the skies.
To weep o'er things I leave,
For thee, my native land, for thee
Ten thousand bosoms grieve;
For thee ten thousand hearts do mourn,
For thee unnumbered cries
Go upward from thy toiling sons,
Like incense to the skies.
This hour divides my heart from all
That makes this world so dear,
This hour I break each fettering chain
That binds me captive here;
I leave thee, Erin! with a heart
Proud as thy winds and free,
I leave thee with a soul that scorns
Thy servile slavery.
That makes this world so dear,
This hour I break each fettering chain
That binds me captive here;
I leave thee, Erin! with a heart
Proud as thy winds and free,
I leave thee with a soul that scorns
Thy servile slavery.
Oh Erin! thou wilt yet be free,
Our prayers will yet be heard,
And thou wilt from thy thraldom 'scape,
Like an unfettered bird;
Too long, too long the tyrant's yoke
Has bowed and humbled thee,
The hour for thy relief draws near,
Thou shalt,—thou shalt be free.
Our prayers will yet be heard,
And thou wilt from thy thraldom 'scape,
Like an unfettered bird;
Too long, too long the tyrant's yoke
Has bowed and humbled thee,
The hour for thy relief draws near,
Thou shalt,—thou shalt be free.
There is an hour when I may come,
A freeman to thy shores,
An hour when I may rest at home,
Triumphant o'er thy foes;
And those who whisper farewell now,
May shout a welcome then;
Oh Erin! faint not in the hope,
Thy sons are valiant men.
A freeman to thy shores,
An hour when I may rest at home,
Triumphant o'er thy foes;
And those who whisper farewell now,
May shout a welcome then;
Oh Erin! faint not in the hope,
Thy sons are valiant men.
Farewell my Erin! Fare thee well,
A brighter day appears,
A day of victory will be ours,
Baptized in blood and tears;
A day, when those who bow us down
By proud oppression now,
May stand before us, conquered then,
With humbled heart and brow.
A brighter day appears,
A day of victory will be ours,
Baptized in blood and tears;
A day, when those who bow us down
By proud oppression now,
May stand before us, conquered then,
With humbled heart and brow.