|
Come all you sons of Paddy's land and listen onto me |
|
Till I relate of the hardships great a crossing over the sea |
|
For the want of bread ten thousands fled so far across the foam |
|
And left the land where they were born called Erin's lovely home. |
|
Black forty seven I'll never forget when the fever it stalked the land |
|
And the famine without mercy it stretched forth it's dreadful hand |
|
There's many the child in cold death lay their parents they did mourn |
|
While the landlord's agents pulled down our roofs in Erin's lovely home. |
|
My father, was a farming man reared to industry |
|
He had two sons, they were men strong, and lovely daughters three |
|
Our farm was too small to feed us all so some of us had to roam |
|
With sisters two I bid adieu to Erin's lovely home |
|
My father sold the second cow and he borrowed twenty pounds |
|
And in the merry month of May we sailed from Sligo town |
|
There were thousands more left upon the shore all anxious for to roam |
|
And leave the land where they were born called Erin's lovely home |
|
We were scarcely seven days at sea when the fever it plagued our crew |
|
They were falling like the autumn leaves bidding friends and life adieu |
|
Now the raging waves sweep o'er their graves, amidst the ocean foam |
|
Our friends may mourn for we'll never return to Erin's lovely home |
|
My loving sisters they both took ill and their lives they were taken away |
|
And oh it grieved my heart full sore for to cast them in the sea |
|
Down in the deep now they do sleep they never more will roam |
|
But in heaven I'll meet with my sisters sweet from Erin's lovely home |
|
Now I'm in the land of liberty where plenty it does abound |
|
Where the labouring man gets full reward for the tilling of his ground |
|
There's naught I can see that can comfort me as an exile I must roam |
|
And end my days far far away from Erin's lovely home |
