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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 315 |
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Though cruel fortune was our foe, And steeped us to the lips in bitter want and woe, Yet cling our hearts to those sad days we passed near Caillino.
At length, by misery bowed to earth, we left our native
strand, And crossed the wide Atlantic to this free and happy
land; Though toils we had to undergo, Yet soon content and happy peace 'twas ours to know, And plenty such as never blessed our hearts, near
Caillino.
And Heaven a blessing has bestowed more precious far
than wealth, Has spared us to each other, full of years, yet strong
in health ; Across the threshold when we go, We see our children's children round us grow, Like sapling oaks within thy woods, far distant Caillino.
Yet sadness clouds our hearts to think that, when we
are no more, Our bones must find a resting place far, far from
Erin's shore; For us, no funeral, sad and slow, Within the ancient abbey's burial mound will go,— No, we must slumber far from home, far, far from
Caillino.
Yet, O if spirits e'er can leave the appointed place of rest, |
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