MY IRISH HOME.


 

While o’er the billow’s heaving breast
    Our bark does slowly glide,
Each lingering look is backward cast,
    Along the curling tide—
And still I hope some happier day
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    May teach me not to roam,
But bless me with the smiles so gay
    That cheered my Irish home.

Yet, Erin dear, thy green-clad hills
    Recede too fast from view,
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While now each breeze the canvas fills
    That bears me far from you— [Page 134]
And, oh! I stand upon the deck,
    To hear the rustling foam,
That half conveys my sorrows back
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    To my dear Irish home.

And now, I watch thy mountains high,
    Above the ocean’s brim,
In graceful beauty touch the sky,
    Through closing night-shades dim,
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Till every vista disappears,
    And lost in evening’s gloam,
The twinkling star of night, that cheers
    My much loved Irish home. [Page 135]