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 wander alone by the hill.
But the attracted his eyes' sad devotion,
For it rose o'er his own isle of the ocean,
When once in the of his youthful emotion,
He the loud anthem of Erin-go-Bragh.

"Sad is my fate!" said the heart-broken :
The wild-deer and wolf to a can flee.
But I have no refuge from and danger-
A home and a country not to me.
Never again, in the green bowers,
Where my forefathers lived, I spend the sweet hours,
Or my harp with the wild-women flower,
And to the numbers of Erin-go-Bragh.

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

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

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