His falchion flashed along the Nile;
His hosts he led through Alpine snows;
O’er Moscow’s towers, that shook the while,
His eagle flag unrolled,—and froze.
Here sleeps he now, alone;—not one
Of all the kings whose crowns he gave,
Nor sire, nor brother, wife, nor son,
Hath ever seen or sought his grave.
Here sleeps he...
Oh! why left I my hame?
Why did I cross the deep?
Oh! why left I the land
Where my forefathers sleep?
I sigh for Scotia’s shore,
And I gaze across the sea,
But I canna get a blink
O’ my ain countrie.
The palm-tree waveth high,
And fair the myrtle springs;
And, to the Indian maid,
The bulbul...
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,...
