Farewell to old Ireland, the land of my childhood Which now and forever I am going to leave Farewell to the shores, where the shamrock is growing It's the bright spot of beauty and the home of the brave
I'll think on its valleys with fond admiration Though never again its bright hills will I see I'm bound for to cross the wide swelling ocean In search of fame and fortune and of sweet liberty
Our ship at the present lies in Derry harbour To bear us away across the wide swelling sea May heaven be her companion and grant her fair breezes Till we reach the green fields of America
It's hard to be forced from the land that we live in Our houses and farms all obiged for to sell To wander along among Indians and strangers To find some sweet spot where our children might dwell
Our artists, our farmers, our tradesmen are leaving To seek for employment far over the sea Where they'll get their riches with care and with industry There's nothing but hardship at home if you stay
So cheer up your spirits, you lads and you lasses There's gold for the digging and lots of it, too A health to the heart that has courage to ramble Bad luck to the lad or the lass that would rue
We'll call for a bumper of ale, wine and brandy We'll drink to the health of those far away Our hearts will all warm at the thought of old Ireland When we're on the green fields of AmericayTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
