| lyric | 1. Beside the campfire's fitful blaze,
Amid the forest drear,
I picture in the dying rays
The home to me so dear;
The lowly cot, the leaping stream,
The spire upon the hill;
I see them as I lie and dream,
My heart is with them home.
2. To my green isle my thoughts return,
Sweet Erin ever blest,
For thy deep valleys oft I yearn,
Wherein my kindred rest,-
The shamrock springs within my heart
When Patrick’s day is nigh,
For though from home and friends apart
To them fond mem’ries fly.
3. The loving hearts I’ve left behind
With mine in exile beat;
A joyful welcome sure I’ll find
When there some day we meet.
0 haste, ye weary laggard years,
0 speed me o’er the foam,
To greet again, ’mid happy tears,
My native land! My home! |