WHERE THE BEAUTIFUL RIVERS FLOW.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume II, Issue 72, 12 September 1874, Page 13

WHERE THE BEAUTIFUL RIVERS FLOW.

Bx Rb7. C. P. Utah.

"Oh, I'll sin* to nieht of a fairy land, in the lap of the ocean set, And of all the lands I've travelled o'er, 'tis the lovliest I have met; Where the willows weep, and the roses sleep, and the balmy breezes blow, In. that dear old land, that sweet old land, where the beautiful rivers ' flow. "But Oh, alas! how can I ting ?—'tis an exile breathes the strain, I And the dear old land of my youthful love I may never eee> again ; | And the very joys that fill my breast must ever change to woe For that dear old land," that sweet old land, where the beautiful rivers flow. But I'll sing of the lonely old churchyards where our fathers' bones are laid — Where the cloisters stand, those ruins grand, that our tyrant foes hare made; And I'll strike the harpfwith a mournful touch, tifl the glistening tears will «how For that, dear old land, that tweet old land, where the beautiful rivers flow. And I'll sing of Emmet's lonely fate, and of hie lonely srave — Of his early doom, and his youthful bloom, and hit spirit more than brF.ve; But ha! how blest and calm his rest, tho' his grave be cold and low, In that dear old land, that sweet old land, where the beautiful rivers flow. And I'll sing of Tone and the Geraldine, proud Edward the true and blest — They won the crown —the martyr's crown—and they sleep in shade and rent; In heavenly mould their names are rolled —they died in manhood's glow, Vot that dear old land, that sweet old land, where the beautiful rivers flow. And I'll sing of Ireland's ancient day, when her sires where kingly

men, Who led the chase and the manly race, thro' forest, field, and glen ; "Whose only word was the shining sword — whose pen, the patriot's blow, 3Tor that dear old land, that sweet old land, where the beautiful rivers flow.