YES! heaven protect thee, thou gem of the ocean; Dear land of my sires, though distant thy shores; Ere my heart cease to love thee, its latest emotion, The last dying throbs of its pulse must be o'er. And dark were the bosom, and cold and unfeeling, That tamely could listen unmoved at the call, When woman, the warm soul of melody stealing, Laments for her country and sighs o'er its fall. Sing on, gentle warbler, the tear-drop appearing Shall fall for the woes of the queen of the sea; And the spirit that breathes in the harp of green Erin, Descending, shall hail thee her "Cushlamachree." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OCTAVES: 7 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON NURSING HOME: THE CANARY by KAREN SWENSON AMERICA TO GREAT BRITAIN by WASHINGTON ALLSTON A DESCRIPTION OF THE MORNING by JONATHAN SWIFT STAGE SETTING KANSAS by BERNICE GIBBS ANDERSON THE BIRDS: THE HOOPOE'S CALL TO HIS WIFE PROCNE, THE NIGHTINGALE by ARISTOPHANES |