Читать книгу An Irish Crazy-Quilt - Arthur M. Forrester - Страница 8

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WHERE the Austral river rushes

Through feathery heath and bushes,

Through its gurgles and its gushes

You may hear,

To your wonder and surprise,

Sweet melodies arise

You have heard ’neath other skies

Low and clear.

Yes! within the gold land,

Strange to you and cold land,

Voices from the old land

Swell upon the gale—

Lyrics of the story,

Lit with flames of glory,

Dimmed with pages gory,

Songs of Innisfail!

Where Mississippi leaping

O’er cliffs and crags, or creeping

Through valleys fair, is sweeping

To the sea,

From the fields of nodding grain

On some mountain path or plain

Rings a stirring old refrain

Fresh and free.

Yes! where’er we wander

Irish hearts will ponder

O’er our land, and fonder

Throb with ev’ry tale

Of the home that bore us,

Till the new skies o’er us

Echo with our chorus

Songs of Innisfail.

Exiles o’er the spray-foam,

Whereso’er we may roam,

Thoughts of far-away home

Linger still,

And in dreams we see again

Babbling stream and silent glen,

Forest green and lonely fen,

Vale and hill.

Yes! our hearts’ devotion

Flies across the ocean,

While with deep emotion

Sternest features pale,

As around us stealing,

Softened by sad feeling,

Through the air are pealing

Songs of Innisfail!