MY
IRISH HOME.
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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]
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