Exile to Her Father, The

Me fayther, ye blessed ould chap!
Do ye think o' yer Mary at whiles?
C'ud I tak yer dear head on me lap
I'd soon win the light o' yor smiles!
But since I have only the word,
And no the tight grip of a fist,
Me luve in this song shall be heard,
And meself, I shall nor be so miss'd.

I have come to where no man is lord,
I have found me a home in the West,
Where labor may win its reward,
And honesty fares wi' the best.
But I cannot forget, though I roam
To the furthermost ends of the earth,
The dear ould fayther at home
In the swate Green Isle of me birth.

This land is a beautiful land,
And freedom and plinty are here,
Its mountains and rivers are grand,
But och! it's the ould home that's dear!
Where the fayther we luve's left behind,
And the drayrie salt sea is atween;
But all the lang day he's in mind,
In that home where the shamrock is green.

Och, darlint ould man, through me tears
I look wi' a sigh and a smile,
Far off to that home, and the years
I lived in the bonny Green Isle:
And though I may niver return
To soothe the dear head growing gray,
I drame of it while the stars burn,
‘Tis me heart that is there ivery day!

Dear fayther! I think o' ye more
As one afther ither departs,
And the childer gone out o' yer door
Can only return in their hearts.
But sure though we lave ye we luve,
And though we ne'er come at yer call,
Ould darlint! we'll mate ye abuve,
It will nor be lang afther all!

Title: Exile to Her Father, The
Alternative Title: Me fayther, ye blessed ould chap!
Creator: George Shepard Burleigh; George Shepard Burleigh
Bibliographic Citation: George S. Burleigh Papers, 1825-1902. John Hay Library, Brown University. Large Scrapbook 198
comment: Prose dialogue on either side of the poem:

THE MAJOR. The poem is good; but I’ve another, from another George, that’s it’s aquil, or I’m no judge av Irish girrls, and trottin’ horses. Shill I rade it?
CROCUS: Yes; but leave out the brogue, and give it to us in English.
(Producing a MS, reads.)
THE MAJOR: I can’t Misther Crokuss, for it’s Irish, — and none the worse for that. (Producing a MS. Reads.)

CROCUS, and others. Beautiful, positively beautiful. Who is the writer ?
THE MAJOR. A man of thru genius, - GEORGE S. BURLEIGH.
CROCUS. Indeed! the poet from whom we had that delicious bit of description, — " An Ocean Sunrise." I've been expecting he would call me to account for printing his name as a contributor to the first Number, when he had nothing in it.
THE MAJOR. I noticed that. How did it happen ?
CROCUS. Why, after the cover had gone to press, the "forms got knocked into pi" at the office, and in resetting the Mag. the poem was accidentally omitted.; The poem is written in an Irish brogue. It is not easy to tell if this is meant to poke fun, or is part of the pathos of the poem.
Subject: Family affection
Irish immigration
Date: TBD

Item sets: Burleigh Resources ALL; George Shepard Burleigh Poems

Media: The Exile to her Father

Part of Exile to Her Father, The