THE CALL OF ERIN.

New Zealand Tablet, 20 February 1919, Page 9

THE CALL OF ERIN.

(For the N.Z. Tablet.) I have not seen thy shore, O hapless Isle ! Where strong men weep, and children fear to smile; But I have heard my mother’s songs. And listened to my father’s wrongs, And I am sad awhile. My mother’s songs are plaintive melodies— Sweet voices of her dear land o’er the seas ; She wanders where the saints have trod— And calls the shamrock from the sod Of trustful memories. My father’s tales are of a proud free race Their noble deeds, and undisputed place— The ancient glory of his land, Ere tyrants forged with iron hand The fetters of disgrace. And I am pensive when my mother sings— And from my father’s words a challenge springs ! And freedom like a burning flood Consumes my souland in my blood The call of Erin rings! — “Cvlas.” Christchurch.