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  ( comments )
  27  /  23  

The infant, on opening his eyes, ought to see his country, and to
the hour of his death never read more

The infant, on opening his eyes, ought to see his country, and to
the hour of his death never lose sight of it.
[Fr., Un enfant en ouvrant ses yeux doit voir la patrie, et
jusqu'a la mort ne voir qu'elle.]

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  33  /  42  

Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my read more

Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd,
As home his footsteps he hath turn'd,
From wandering on a foreign strand!

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  19  /  20  

Who dare to love their country, and be poor.

Who dare to love their country, and be poor.

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  24  /  23  

Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our read more

Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee,--are all with thee!

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  45  /  29  

Land of my sires! what mortal hand
Can e'er untie the filial band
That knits me to read more

Land of my sires! what mortal hand
Can e'er untie the filial band
That knits me to thy rugged strand!

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  9  /  16  

They love their land, because it is their own,
And scorn to give aught other reason why;
read more

They love their land, because it is their own,
And scorn to give aught other reason why;
Would shake hands with a king upon his throne,
And think it kindness to his majesty.

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  15  /  22  

From the lone shielding on the misty island
Mountains divide us, and the waste of seas--
But read more

From the lone shielding on the misty island
Mountains divide us, and the waste of seas--
But still the blood is strong, the heart is Highland,
And we in dreams behold the Hebrides.

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  28  /  42  

There came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and read more

There came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill;
For his country he sigh'd, when at twilight repairing.
To wander along by the wind-beaten hill.
But the day star attracted his eyes' sad devotion,
For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean,
Where once in the fire of his youthful emotion
He sang the bold anthem of Erin-go-bragh.

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  20  /  19  

I can't but say it is an awkward sight
To see one's native land receding through
The read more

I can't but say it is an awkward sight
To see one's native land receding through
The growing waters; it unmans one quite,
Especially when life is rather new.

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