"Thou Dear Native Land" (1815)
Poetry by John Stewart, Esq.
Composed by Dr. John Clarke of Cambridge

New York: J. WILLSON, No. 16 Maiden Lane
Engraved by HILL, No. 8 Fair St.
[Source: 015/066@Levy]

1.
  Thou dear native land which no more
These eyes fondly turning must see
  An exile I go from the alone
Where ROses oft wandered with me!
  Yet still how sad to you love 
How very sad is it for me

[REFRAIN sung after each verse]
  Yet still how sad to past, love,
How very sad it is for me
  To sigh and to listen "farewell love"
And be torn for ever from thee
  To sigh and to listen "farewell love"
And be torn for ever from thee!

2.
  Soft eyes that with glorious beauty,
Bids the field's of my fore fathers stride,
  Shall guide me no more to their strengths.
Sweet strains of the emerald isle!

3.
  The cot of my childhood is there,
Its lattice all hung with wild flowers;
  O! to it perchance shoud't repair.
And think on happier hours.

4.
  In madness I'll court thee my fair,
And curse thee on ev'ry rind;
  And sing my own native wild air,
And weep for those left far behind,