Luyện nghe bài hát The Exile Of Erin / Air: I Mo Sheasamh Ar An Tra (As I Stand On The Beach)

THERE came to the a poor exile of Erin.
The dew on his robe was heavy and chill;
For his country he sighed, at twilight reparing.
To alone by the wind-beaten hill.
But the day-star his eyes' sad devotion,
For it rose o'er his own native of the ocean,
When in the fire of his youthful emotion,
He sang the loud of Erin-go-Bragh.

"Sad is my fate!" said the stranger :
The wild-deer and wolf to a can flee.
But I have no from famine and danger-
A home and a remain not to me.
again, in the green sunny bowers,
Where my forefathers lived, shall I spend the hours,
Or cover my harp the wild-women flower,
And strike to the of Erin-go-Bragh.

"Erin, my ! though sad and forsaken,
In dreams I revisit thy sea shore:
But alas ! in a far land I awaken,
And sigh for the who can meet me no more
O! cruel fate ! wilt never replace me
In a mansion of peace where no perils can me?
Never again my brothers embrace me.
died to defend me, or live to deplore.

"Where is my cabin door, fast by the wood?
and sire, did you weep for its fall?
Where is the that looked on my childhood?
And where is the bosom dearer than all?
O! my sad heart! long by pleasure,
Why did it dote on fast-fading
Tears, like the rain-drops, may with-out measure,
But rapture and they cannot recall.

"Yet all its sad suppressing,
One dying wish my lone bosom can
Erin! an bequeaths thee his blessing!
of my forefathers. Erin-go-Bragh!
Buried and cold, when my stills its motion,
Green be thy fields, sweetest of the ocean!
And thy harp-striking bards sing with devotion,
Mavourneen! Erin-go-Bragh."