Song of the
Chartist Emigrant.

O ! why from the land of my sires am I driven,1
Where my young eyes first gazed on the blue vault of
heaven ;
Where my fathers once trode—where their ashes are
’Neath the turf on whose surface their children are weeping ?4
O ! why is my home, once so gladsome deserted,5
And the joys of my youth like a vision departed ;6
Has heaven withheld its rich bounties ?  Ah ! no.7
’Tis man, heartless man, is the cause of our woe.8
The songster will mourn when its nestlings are stolen,9
And the proud river sweep when its waters are swollen ;10
It is grief makes me utter this sad mournful strain,11
’Tis the flood-tide of guilt drives my feet from the plain.12
I am yet young in years, but am aged in sorrow,13
While dark lowers the day, but thrice darker the morrow ;14
To the green fields I turn, but their fresh smiling gladness15
Decreases my hope, and increases my sadness.16
Are these hills the famed spots where the tocsin once
sounded ?
When at freedom’s first summons our ancestors bounded18
To struggle for liberty ?  And these veterans of story19
Bequeathed us a home, now the mansion of sorrow.20
But the lion ere long shall awake from its slumber,21
And the long pent volcano breathe forth all its thunder ;22
When the voice of the mass, like the bold Hebrew’s horn,23
Shall sound as the herald announcing the storm.24
Farewell, tombs of my sires ! once opponents to slavery !25
Farewell lovely Scotland, thou cradle of bravery !26
My heart bleeds afresh as I gaze on thy grandeur,27
And think from these scenes I an exile must wander.28
My tears oft shall flow when I hear of thy sadness,29
And my joy shall burst forth when I hear of thy gladness.30
Adieu, my first love ! and the last prayer I utter31
Shall be that contentment around thee may flutter.32