Erin, my country, though sad and forsaken, In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore ! But alas! in a far disiant land I awaken, And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more. 0, hard, cruel fate, wilt thou never replace me In a mansion of peace, where no peril can chase me? Al! never again shall my brothers embrace me, They died to defend me, or live to deplore ! But yet, all its fond recollections suppressing, One dying wish my lone bosom shall draw: Erin, an exile, bequeaths thee his blessing, Land of my forefathers, Erin go bragh! Buried and cold, when my heart stills its motion, Green be thy fields, sweetest Isle of the Ocean, And thy harp-striking bards sing aloud with devotion, O, Erin ma vorneen, Erin go bragh! 'TIS THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER. Left blooming alone; Are faded and gone! No rose-bud is nigh, Oi give sigh for sigh: To pine on the stem; Go, sleep thou with them; Thy leaves o'er thy bed, When friendships decay; And from love's shining circle, The gems drop away! And fond ones are flown, This bleak world alone ? HARK, THE VESPER HYMN IS STEALING. Russian Air. O’er the waters, soft and cleai- Amen. Soft it fades upon the ear; Soft it fades, &c. To the shore, it dies along; Breaks the mingled tide of song. To the shore, it dies along; To the shore, &c. A MASON'S DAUGHTER. Thus to her lover said Though, Damon, I your flame approve, Yet still I'll live a maid. Of fam'd free masonry ; Man to felicity. That liberty would sell; In slavery to dwell. Return’d to her again; - BLOW HIGH, BLOW LOW.-By Dibdin. Blow high, blow low, let tempests tear The main-mast by the board, And love well stor'd, The roaring winds, the raging sea, * In hopes on shore to be once more Safe moor’d with thee. Aloft, while mountains high we go, The whistling winds that scud along, And the surge roaring from below, Shall my signal be to think on thee, And this shall be my song Blow high, blow low, &c. And on that night, when all the crew The mem’ry of their former lives, And drink their sweethearts & their wives, Blow high, blow low, &.c. AMERICA, COMMERCE, AND FREEDOM. How blest the life a sailor leads, From clime to clime still ranging; For as the calm the storm succeeds, The scene delights by changing. Though tempests howl along the main, Some objects will remind us, The friends we left behind us And tho' landsmen look pale never heed 'em; But toss off a glass to some favorite lass, To America, commerce, and freedom. Or safe in port rejoicing; Whilst out our boat is hoisting : With cheerful hearts the shore we reach, Our friends, delighted, greet us ; And tripping lightly o'er the beach, The pretty lasses meet us. When the full-flowing bowl enlivens the soul, To foot it we merrily lead thein ; And each bonny lass will drink off her glass, To America, commerce, and freedom. And gladly we receive it; That wants, we freely give it; But cheerfully would lend it; [joys, Then drink round, my boys, 'tis the first of our To relieve the distress'd, clothe and feed 'em; 'Tis a duty we share with the brave and the fair, In this land of commerce and freedom. THE COUNTRY CLUB.-By Dibdin. To moisten well our clay; Where's the waiter?-ring away! And plenty of brown stout ? Let the clerk all the names read out. |