When she answered me her voice was low – but, oh!
Not, Erin, thine own harp’s impassioned chord
With prouder bliss e’er bade my bosom glow,
Than she has kindled by that one sweet word.

When the colleen’s eyes looked back the love in mine,
My Erin, never after darkest night
With bluer welcome o’er the ocean line
Thy shore has started on my patriot sight. 

And, Erin, bid thy son as soon believe
Thy song expired, thy star of promise set,
As dream my darling’s eyes could e’er deceive
Her lips their low sweet answer all forget.