Dark Rosaleen (My Dark Rosaleen)

O ban! O bone! my country dear, my love, my mother, Hannah! O ban! O beau'n! my gentle maiden, Rosaleen!

I saw thee once, my native isle, where all thy beauties be; I saw thy pale and lovely face, and wept to think of thee.

Thy cheek was wan, thy brow was pale, thy smile was like the moon; Thy hair fell loose upon thine arm, O maiden of the noon!

I took thy hand, and fondly pressed it to my burning heart; I swore to love thee while I lived, and ne'er from thee depart.

They drove thee forth with cruel scorn, they bound thee on the sea; They sold thee to the stranger's chain, and made thy children flee.

But in the night I saw thee stand upon the stormy strand, Thy garment torn, thy long black hair blown sadly o'er thy hand.

I called aloud, 'O Rosaleen! O Rosaleen! my love!'—but thee The winds alone, and the wild waves, answered my cry to sea.

Arise! arise! my dark Rosaleen, put on thy robe of state; Arise! arise! my native land! and claim again thy fate.

For faith and truth shall guard thee now, and Freedom be thy guide; And all the tyrant's iron chain shall fall from off thy side.

Then raise thy head, my Rosaleen! and look upon the morn; The storm hath passed, the night is gone, and Freedom's day is born.

Sing, maiden, sing! thy silver voice shall ring o'er hill and plain; And all the sons of men shall hear the glad and conquering strain.