The Emigrants (Come to the Land of Sweet Liberty/Farewell to Old Ireland/Edward Connors)

[A. Come to the Land of Sweet Liberty]

Our ship at the present lies in Derry Harbour
To bear us away o’er the wild swelling sea
May heaven be her pilot and grant us fond breezes
Till we reach the green fields of Amerikay

Oh come to the land where we will be happy
Don’t be afraid of the storm o’er the sea
And it’s when we get over we will surely discover
That place is the land of sweet liberty

[B. Farewell to Old Ireland]

Farewell to old Ireland, the land of my childhood
That now and forever I am bound for to leave;
Farewell to the shores, the shamrock is growing
It’s the bright spot of beauty and home of the brave
I will think on her valleys with fond admiration
Though never again its green hills will I see
I’m bound for to cross o’er that wide swelling ocean
In search of fame, fortune and sweet liberty

It’s hard to be forced from the lands that we live in
Our houses and farms we’re obliged for to sell
And to wander alone amongst Indians and strangers
To find some sweet spot where our children might dwell
I’ve got a wee lassie I fain would take with me
Her dwelling at present lies in County Down
It would break my poor heart for to leave her behind me
We will both roam together this wide world around

So come away, Bessie, my own blue-eyed lassie
Bid farewell to your mother and then come with me
I’ll do my endeavour to keep your mind cheery
Till we reach the green fields of Americay
Our ship at the present lies below Londonderry
To bear us away o’er the wide swelling sea;
May heaven be her pilot and grant her fair breezes
Till we reach the green fields of Americay

Our farmers, our artists, our tradesmen are going
To seek for employment far over the sea
Where they will get riches with care and industry;
There’s nothing but hardship at home if you stay
So cheer up your spirits, you lads and you lasses
There’s gold for the digging and lots of it, too
And success to the hearts that have courage to venture
And misfortune to him or to her that would rue

There’s brandy in Quebec at ten cents a quart boys
The ale in New Brunswick’s a penny a glass
There’s wine in that sweet town they call Montreal boys
At inn after inn we will drink as we pass
We’ll call for a bumper of ale, wine and brandy
And we’ll drink to the health of those far far away;
Our hearts will all warm at the thought of old Ireland
While we’re in the green fields of Americay

[C. Edward Connors]

Come all you loyal Irishmen and listen all for a while
All you that wants to emigrate and leave the Emerald Isle
A kind advice I will give you which you must bear in mind
How you will be forsaken when you leave your land behind

My name is Edward Connors and the same I’ll ne’er disown
I used to live in happiness near unto Portglenone
I sold my farm as you will hear which grieves my heart full sore
And I sailed away to Amerikay and left the Shamrock shore

For my mind it was deluded by letters that were sent
By those that a few years ago to Canada had went
They said that they like princes lived and earning gold galore
And they laughed at our misfortune here at home on the Shamrock shore

So it’s with my wife and my family to Belfast I went down
We booked our passage on a ship to Quebec she was bound
My money it was growing short when we laid in sea-store
But I thought my fortune would be won when we reached the other shore

When we were scarce three days at sea a storm it soon arose
It threw our ship on her beam end and woke us from our repose
Our sea-store then it was destroyed by water that down did pour
How happy we would then have been at home on the Shamrock shore

And when we were nine long days at sea our sea-store was all gone
And there upon the ocean wide with nowhere for to run
But for our captain’s kindliness he kindly gave us more
We would have died with hunger e’er we reached the other shore

And it’s when we landed in Quebec the sight that met our eyes
Three hundred of our Irish boys that did us sore surprise
With a sorrowful lamentation charity they did crave
And the little trifle we had left to them we freely gave

We stayed three weeks in the town of Quebec hoping some work to find
My money it was growing short which troubled my mind
For I had friends when I had cash but none when I was poor
I never met with friendship yet like this on the Shamrock shore

Well we stayed around Quebec town till our money it was all gone
Still hoping for employment but work we could find none
And in this place it was the case with many hundreds more
We oftimes wished that we were home all on the Shamrock shore

So come all who are intending now strange countries for to roam
Bear in mind you have as good as Canada at home
Before that you cross over the main where foaming billows roar
Think on the happy days you spent all on the Shamrock shore