My Own Native Land

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  • Teideal (Title): My Own Native Land.
  • Uimhir Chatalóige Ollscoil Washington (University of Washington Catalogue Number): 855413.
  • Uimhir Chnuasach Bhéaloideas Éireann (National Folklore of Ireland Number): none.
  • Uimhir Roud (Roud Number): none.
  • Uimhir Laws (Laws Number): none.
  • Uimhir Child (Child Number): none.
  • Cnuasach (Collection): Joe Heaney Collection, University of Washington, Seattle.
  • Teanga na Croímhíre (Core-Item Language): English.
  • Catagóir (Category): song.
  • Ainm an té a thug (Name of Informant): Joe Heaney.
  • Ainm an té a thóg (Name of Collector): Robin Hiteshew.
  • Dáta an taifeadta (Recording Date): 16/03/1980.
  • Suíomh an taifeadta (Recording Location): Devon Ballroom, Devon, Pennsylvania, United States of America.
  • Ocáid an taifeadta (Recording Occasion): concert.
  • Daoine eile a bhí i láthair (Others present): unavailable.
  • Stádas chóipcheart an taifeadta (Recording copyright status): unavailable.

There’s a dear little isle on the western ocean
An island of purity, holy and grand
It’s name leaves its daughters and sons with emotion
When heard on the shores of a far distant land

‘Tis Ireland, my country, the birthplace of heroes
The home of the patriot, warrior and sage
Of bard and of chieftain whose names live in story
May they rest forever on history’s page.

Sure I love every blade of green grass on your mountain
Every leaf on your tree, every rock on your strand
I love your green hills and your murmuring fountains
I love you, I love you a chuisle, my own native land.

You once were a proud and a glorious nation
Your name and your fame were all over the world
Til misfortune came o’er you and sad desolation
And your emerald banner in slavery unfurled.

They tortured your children, they destroyed your green banner
They tried to exterminate you long long ago
But the Irish, they found, were like wild creeping flowers
The faster you pluck them, it’s the quicker they grow.

Sure I love every blade of green grass on your mountain
Every leaf on your tree, every rock on your strand
I love your green hills and your murmuring fountains
I love you, I love you a chuisle, my own native land.