| lyric | Deep in the Canadian woods
we've met from one bright Island flown.
Great is the land we tread
but yet our hearts are with our own.
And ere we leave this shanty small,
while fades the autumn day,
we’ll toast old Ireland, dear old Ireland,
Ireland boys hurrah!
We've heard her faults a hundred times,
The new ones and the old,
In songs and sermons, rants and rhymes,
Enlarged some fifty-fold.
But take them all, the great and small,
And this we've got to say:
Here's dear old Ireland ! good old Ireland !
Ireland, boys Hurrah I
We know that brave and good men tried,
To snap her rusty chain,
That patriots suffered, martyrs died,
And all, it's said, in vain:
But no, boy, no ! a glance will show
How far they've won their way
Here's good old Ireland ! loved old Ireland I
Ireland, boys, Hurrah I
We've seen the wedding and the wake,
The patron and the fair,
And lithe young frames at the dear old games
In the kindly Irish air,
And the loud ""Hurrah,"" we have heard it too,
And a thundering ""Clear the way !""
Here's gay old Ireland ! dear old Ireland I
Ireland, boys, Hurrah I
And well we know in cool grey eyes,
When the hard day's work is o'er,
How soft and sweet are the words that greet,
The friends who meet once more:
With ""Mary Machreel"" and ""My Pat, 'tis he I""
And ""My own heart night and day!""
Ah, fond old Ireland ! dear old Ireland I
Ireland, boys, Hurrah I
And happy and bright are the groups that pass
From their peaceful homes, for miles
O'er fields and roads, and hills, to Mass,
When Sunday morning smiles !
And deep the zeal their true hearts feel
When low they kneel and pray.
0, dear old Ireland ! blest old Ireland I
Ireland, boys, Hurrah I
But deep in Canadian woods, we've met,
And we never may see again
The dear old isle where our hearts are set
And our first fond hopes remain !
But come, fill up another cup
and with every sup let's say:
""Here's loved old Ireland I good old Ireland I
Ireland, boys, Hurrah !"" |