There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin,
  The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill;
For his country he sighed, when at twilight repairing
  To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill.
But the day-star attracted his eye’s sad devotion,
For it rose o’er his own native isle of the ocean,
Where once, in the fire of his youthful emotion,...