But if Columbia were my home,
Her freedom I’d adore.
Though pleasant days in both I pass’d,
I dream of days to come;
Oh, steer my bark to Erin’s isle,—
For Erin is my home.
Oh, steer my bark, &c.
The Harp that once thro’ Tara’s Halls.
The harp that once through Tara’s halls
The soul of music shed,