James and Mary Ford, eds. Every Day in the Year. 1902.
September 20She Is Far from the Land
By Thomas Moore (17791852)S
And lovers around her are sighing;
But coldly she turns from their gaze and weeps,
For her heart in his grave is lying!
Every note which he loved awaking—
Ah! little they think, who delight in her strains,
How the heart of the minstrel is breaking!
They were all that to life had entwined him,—
Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried,
Nor long will his love stay behind him.
When they promise a glorious to-morrow;
They’ll shine o’er her sleep like a smile from the West
From her own loved Island or Sorrow.