English poem
Farewell
by John Boyle O'Reilly (1844–1890)
Farewell! Oh how hard and how sad 'tis to speak That last word of parting—forever to break The fond ties and affection that cling round the heart From home and from friends and from country to part. 'Though it grieves to remember, 'tis vain to regret. The sad word must be spoken, and memory's spell Now steals o'er me sadly. Farewell! Oh farewell!
Farewell to thy green hills, thy valleys and plains, My poor blighted country! In exile and chains Are the sons doomed to linger. Of God who didst bring Thy children to Zion from Egypt's proud king, We implore Thy great mercy! Oh stretch forth Thy hand, And guide back her sons to their poor blighted land.
Never more thy fair face am I destined to see; E'en the savage loves home, but 'tis crime to love thee. God bless thee, dear Erin, my loved one, my own, Oh! how hard 'tis these tendrils to break that have grown
Round my heart. But 'tis over, and memory's spell Now stears o'er me sadly. Farewell! Oh, Farewell!