YOU’LL TRAVEL FAR AND WIDE
You’ll travel far and wide, dear, but you’ll come back
again,
You’ll come back to your father and your mother in
the glen,
Although we should be lyin’ ‘neath the heather grasses
then—
You’ll be comin’ back, my darlin’!
You’ll see the icebergs sailin’ along the wintry foam,
The white hair of the breakers, and the wild swans as
they roam;
But you’ll not forget the rowan beside your father’s
home
You’ll be comin’ back, my darlin’!
New friends will clasp your hand, dear, new faces on
you smile;
You’ll bide with them and love them, but you’ll long
for us the while;
For the word across the water, and the farewell by the
stile—
For the true heart’s here, my darlin’!
You’ll hear the wild birds singin’ beneath a brighter sky,
The roof-tree of your home, dear, it will be grand and
high;
But you’ll hunger for the hearthstone where, a child,
you used to lie—
You’ll be comin’ back, my darlin’!
And when your foot is weary, and when your heart is sore,
And you come back to the moor that spreads beyand
your father’s door,
There’ll be many an ancient comrade to greet you on
the shore—
At your comin’ back, my darlin’!
Ah, the hillock cannot cover, and the grass it cannot hide
The love that never changeth, whatever wind or tide;
And though you’ll not be seein’, we’ll be standin’ by
your side—
You’ll be comin’ back, my darlin’!
O, there’s no home like the old home, there’s no pillow
like the breast
You slumbered on in childhood, like a young bird in
the nest:
We are livin’ still and waitin’, and we’re hopin’ for the
best—
Ah, you’re comin’ back, my darlin’—comin’ back!
FARCALLADEN RISE
Oh, it’s down the long side of Farcalladen Rise,
With the knees pressing hard to the saddle, my men;
With the sparks from the hoofs giving light to the eyes,
And our hearts beating hard as we rode to the glen!
And it’s back with the ring of the chain and the spur,
And it’s back with the sun on the hill and the moor,
And it’s back is the thought sets my pulses astir,—
But I’ll never go back to Farcalladen more!
Oh, it’s down the long side of Farcalladen Rise,
And it’s swift as an arrow and straight as a spear,
And it’s keen as the frost when the summer-time dies,
That we rode to the glen, and with never a fear.
And it’s hey for the hedge, and it’s hey for the wall,
And it’s over the stream with an echoing cry;
And there’s three fled for ever from old Donegal,
And there’s two that have shown how bold Irishmen die!
For it’s rest when the gallop is over, my men,
And it’s here’s to the lads that have ridden their last;
And it’s here’s to the lasses we leave in the glen,
With a smile for the future, a sigh for the past!
GIVE ME THE LIGHT HEART
Give, me the light heart, Heaven above!
Give me the hand of a friend,
Give me one high fine spirit to love,
I’ll abide my fate to the end:
I will help where I can, I will cherish my own,
Nor walk the steep way of the world alone.