Page:The poetical works of Thomas Campbell.djvu/111

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Never again, in the green sunny bowers,Where my forefathers lived, shall I spend the sweet hours,Or cover my harp with the wild-woven flowers,And strike to the numbers of Erin go bragh!
Erin, my country! though sad and forsaken,In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore;But, alas! in a far foreign land I awaken,And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more!Oh cruel fate? wilt thou never replace meIn a mansion of peace—where no perils can chase me?Never again shall my brothers embrace me?They died to defend me, or live to deplore!
Where is my cabin-door, fast by the wild wood?Sisters and sire! did ye weep for its fall?Where is the mother that look'd on my childhood?And where is the bosom-friend, dearer than all?Oh! my sad heart! long abandon'd by pleasure,Why did it dote on a fast-fading treasure?Tears, like the rain drop, may fall without measure,But rapture and beauty they cannot recal.
Yet all its sad recollections suppressing,One dying wish my lone bosom can draw:Erin! an exile bequeaths thee his blessing!Land of my forefathers! Erin go bragh!Buried and cold, when my heart stills her motion.Green be thy fields,—sweetest isle of the ocean!And thy harp-striking bards sing aloud with devotion.—Erin mavournin—Erin go bragh[1]!
  1. ↑ Ireland my darling, Ireland for ever.
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