|home | background | illustrations | distribution | highlights | search & browse | resources | contact us|
Broadside ballad entitled 'The Irish Emigrant'
The Irish Emigrant
I'm sitting on the stile Mary,
Where we sat side by side,
When first you were my laide.
And the lark sang loud and high;
And the love light in your eye.
The place is little changed Mary,
The day as bright as then ;?
And the corn is green again,
But I miss the sôft clasp of your hand,
And I still keep listening for the words
'Tis but a step down yonder lane,
And the little church stands near;
The church where we were wed Mary,-
I see the spire from here,
But the grave-yard lies between, Mary.?
And my steps might break your rest.
With your baby on your breast.
For the poor make no new friend;
The few our father sends,
My blessing and my pride,
There's nothing left to care for, now,
Yours was the good brave heart, Mary,
That still kept hoping on;
And my arm's strong strength had gold
There was comfort on your lip Mary,
And the kind look on your brow;
Though you cannot hear me now,
I thank you for the patient smile,
When your heart was like to break
And you hid it for my sake.
When your heart was sad and sore;
Where grief can't reach you more!
My Mary kind and true;
In the land I'm going to.
And the sun shines always there;
Were it fifty times' as fair,
Robert M'lntosh, Printer,
Probable period of publication:
1860-1890 shelfmark: L.C.Fol.70(2a)