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 ;2
heaven ;2
Where my fathers once trode—where their ashes are
sleeping3
sleeping3
’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 ?17
sounded ?17
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