Erin, my country, though sad and forsaken,
In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore!
But alas! in a far distant land I awaken,
And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more. O, hard, cruel fate, wilt thou never replace me
In a mansion of peace, where no peril can chase me?
Ah! 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.
"Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone!
No flower of her kindred,
No rose-bud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh:
I'll not leave thee, thou lone one!
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep thou with them;
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o'er thy bed,
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.
So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay;
And from love's shining circle,
The gems drop away!
When true hearts lie wither'd,
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?
HARK, THE VESPER HYMN IS STEALING.
Russian Air.
HARK, the vesper hymn is stealing
O'er the waters, soft and clear-
Nearer yet, and nearer pealing,
Now it bursts upon the ear.
Further now, now further stealing,
Soft it fades upon the ear;
Further now, &c.
Now, like moonlight waves, retreating,
To the shore, it dies along;
Now, like angry surges meeting,
Breaks the mingled tide of song.
Hark, again, like waves retreating
To the shore, it dies along;
Hark, again, &c.
A MASON'S DAUGHTER.
A MASON's daughter, fair and young,
The pride of all the virgin throng,
Thus to her lover said-
Though, Damon, I your flame approve,
Your actions praise, your person love,
Yet still I'll live a maid.
None shall untie my virgin zone,
But one to whom the secret's known,
Of fain'd free masonry;
In which the great and good combine
To raise, with generous design,
Man to felicity.
The lodge excludes the fop and fool,
The plodding knave, and party tool,
That liberty would sell;
The noble, faithful and the brave,
No golden charms can e'er deceive,
In slavery to dwell.
This said, he bow'd, and went away;
Reply was made without delay,
Return'd to her again;
The fair one granted his request,
Connubial joys their days have blest;
And may they e'er remain.
BLOW HIGH, BLOW LOW.—By Dibdin. BLOW high, blow low, let tempests tear The main-mast by the board,
My heart with thoughts of thee, my dear, And love well stor'd,
Shall brave all danger, scorn all fear,
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,
O'er flowing cans of flip renew, a
And drink their sweethearts & their wives,
I'll heave a sigh and think on thee;
And as the ship rolls through the sea,
The burden of my song shall be-
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,
And cheer with hope to meet again
The friends we left behind us.
Then under full sail we laugh at the gale,
And tho' landsmen look pale never heed 'em;
But toss off a glass to some favorite lass,
To America, commerce, and freedom."
But when arrived in sight of land,
Or safe in port rejoicing;
Our ship we moor, our sails we hand,
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.
Our prizes sold, the chink we share,
And gladly we receive it;
And when we meet a brother tar
That wants, we freely give it;
No free-born sailor yet had store,
But cheerfully would lend it;
And when 'tis gone-to sea for more-
We earn it but to spend 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.
Now we're all met here together,
In spite of wind and weather,
To moisten well our clay;
Before we think of jogging,
Let's take a cheerful nogging;
Where's the waiter?-ring away!-
Where's the glees and the catches,
The tobacco-pipes and matches,
And plenty of brown stout?
Yet the glasses ere we start 'em,
Let's proceed, secundem artem.
Let the clerk all the names read out.
|