My own native land by Crubeen

A song bemoaning the passing of a golden era in Ireland and yet stating
that the Irish remain indomitable of spirit despite adversity.
This song was collected from the Ryan family of Murroe. Co. Limerick.

MY OWN NATIVE LAND

There's a dear little isle in the western ocean.
It's an island of purity. holy and grand.
Its name fills its daughters and sons with emotion.
When they are out on a far distant strand.

'Tis Ireland. God bless her, the birthplace of heroes.
The home of the patriot. warrior and sage.
Of bards and chieftains whose names live in stories
May they live forever on history's. page.

You once were a proud and a glorious nation
Your name and your fame were known all over the world.
Till misfortune came o*er you and sad desolation
And your emerald banner in slavery lay unfurled.

They tortured your children, they spoiled your green bowers
They tried to exterminate you, long, long, longago.
But the Irish are somehow like wild creeping Flowers.
The faster you pluck them. the quicker they seem to grow.

Oh I love every blade of grass, green on your mountains
Every leaf on your trees, every rock on your strand,
Sure I love every hill and your murmuring fountains
Oh I love you A Cushla, 'my own dear native land.

Category:

Music

Tags:

• crubeen
• irish folk music
• the longkesh ramblers
• the long kesh ramblers