The Emigrant
by Joseph Campbell,
Irishry 1913
from The Oxford Book of Ireland

The cart is yoked before the door,
And time will let us dance no more.
Come, fiddler, now, and play for me
'Farewell to barn and stack and tree.'

To-day the fields looked wet and cold,
The mearings gapped, the cattle old.
Things are not what they used to be -
'Farewell to barn and stack and tree.'

I go, without the heart to go,
To kindred that I hardly know.
Drink, neighbour, drink a health with me -
'Farewell to barn and stack and tree.'

Five hours will see me stowed aboard,
The gang-plank up, the ship unmoored.
Christ grant no tempest shakes the sea -
'Farewell to barn and stack and tree.'

I recite this poem before singing
A STOR MO CHROI
(Treasure of my Heart)
Words by Brian O'Higgins (1882-1949)

A Stor Mo Chroi, when you're far away
From the home that you'll soon be leaving,
Sure it's many a time by night and by day
That your heart will be sorely grieving.
For the stranger's land may be bright and fair,
And rich in all treasures golden.
You'll pine, I know, for the long, long ago
And the heart that is never olden.

A Stor Mo Chroi, in the stranger's land
There's plenty of wealth and wailing.
Though gems adorn the rich and grand
There are faces with hunger paling.
The road may be weary, and hard to tread
And the lights of the city blind you.
Oh turn, A Stor, to old Erin's shore
And the ones you have left behind you.

A Stor Mo Chroi, when the evening's mist
O'er mountain and meadow is falling,
Oh turn, A Stor, from the throng and list
And maybe you'll hear me calling.
For the sound of a voice that you seldom hear
For somebody's speedy return.
Aroon, aroon, Won't you come back soon
To the one who really loves you.

Cheers, S. in Seattle