The Irish soldier, cast for fight,
Stood to his arms at dead of night,
Watching the east, until its ray
...
Now welcome, welcome, baby--boy, unto a mother's fears,
The pleasure of her sufferings, the rainbow of her t ...
...
Ours is no quarrel that will not be ended--
Ours are not hearts to hate on to the las ...
...
From my proper clime and subjects,
In my hot and swarthy East,
North and Westward I am coming
For a conquest and a feast-
...
Am I the slave they say,
Soggarth aroon?
Since you did show the way,
...
Sir Shamrock, sitting drinking,
At close of day, at close of day,
...
Men who for the land do toil,
Humble brethren of our soil,
...
Yes! discord's hand to the last it was
In every field of our story,
...
OSSIAN. Man of prayers, lead me forth
From our silent cell of care,
The morning--breeze to me is worth
All thy hymns and all thy prayer--
...
And yet beneath that happy sky,
Was heard one ever--during sigh,
One heart of sadness there was known,
One voice of sorrow wept alone,
...