My Heart’s in Old Erin

My bark on the billow dashed gloriously on

Have you heard the notes of the sailor boys‘ song

Yet sad was my bosom and bursting with woe

My heart’s in old Erin wherever my boat does float

More dear than the flowers that Italy yields

Are the red breasted daisies that spangle your fields

The shamrock, the hawthorn the white blossom glows

My heart’s in old Erin wherever my boat does float

The shores they look lovely, yet cheerless and vain

Bloom the lilies of France and the olives of Spain

When I think on the fields where the white daisies grow

My heart’s in old Erin wherever my boat does float

The lilies and roses abandon the plains

Though the summer’s gone by still the shamrock remains

Like a friend in misfortune that blossoms o’er the snow

My heart’s in old Erin wherever my boat does float

I sigh and I vow if e’er  I’ll get home

No more from my dear native cottage I’ll roam

The harp shall resound and the goblet shall flow o’er

My Heart’s in old Erin wherever I go