Lament of the Irish Immigrant

I'm sittin' on the stile, Mary
 Where we once sat side by side
 On a bright May mornin' long ago
 When first you were my bride;
 The corn was springin' fresh and green
 And the lark sang loud and high
 And the red was on your lips, Mary
 And the love-light in your eye
 'Tis but a step down yonder lane
 the village church stands near
 The place where we were wed, Mary
 I can see the spire from here
 But the graveyard lies between, Mary
 And my step might break your rest
 Where I laid you, darling! down to sleep
 With your baby on your breast
 I'm very lonely now, Mary
 For the poor make no new friends
 But, O, they love the better still
 The few our Father sends!
 For you were all I had, Mary
 My blessing and my pride:
 And I've nothin' left to care for now
 Since my poor Mary died
 Yours was the good, brave heart, Mary
 That still kept hoping on
 When the trust in God had left my soul
 And my arm's young strength had gone:
 There was comfort ever on your lip
 And the kind look on your brow
 And I thank you, Mary, for that same
 Though you cannot hear me now
 I'm biddin' you a long farewell
 My Marykind and true!
 But I'll not forget you, darling!
 In the land I'm goin' to;
 They say there 's bread and work for all
 And the sun shines always there
 But I'll not forget old Ireland
 Were it fifty times as fair!
 And often in those grand old woods
 I'll sit, and shut my eyes
 And my heart will wander back again
 To the place where Mary lies;
 And I'll think I see that little stile
 Where we sat side by side:
 In the springin' corn, and the bright May morn
 When first you were my bride
 In the springin' corn, and the bright May morn
 When first you were my bride