Oh Maid of Erin ! do not weep,
Or heave for me one sigh ;
But let the precious tear-drop sleep
Within thy gentle eye.

Oh keep it in thine eye of blue ; -
Resume thy self-command,
Till thy soft sigh shall waft the dew
To thine own emerald land.

Alas ! too late; - the little gem
Falls o'er a rose-bud fair,
And, pendant on the flow'ret's stem,
It hangs, and glitters there.

As the bright sun recalls the rain
Back to its native heaven,
And in soft dew the show'r again
To thirstier fields is given :-

So, Maid of Erin, by thy smile
The fallen tear reclaim,
And for thine own, thy suffering isle,
Oh ! weep it o'er again.