The Exile's Song
Oh! were I again on my native bay,By the curving hills that are far away,I scarcely would wander for half a dayFrom the Cuckoo's Glen of a Sunday!For, och, och, Éire, O!Lone is the exile from Éire, O!'Tis my heart that is heavy and weary!
O many a Christmas in Ireland,I would race with the boys on the pleasant strand,With my hurling-stick in my baby hand,And but little sense to guide me!And, och, och, Éire, O!Sad is the exile from Éire, O!'Tis my heart that is heavy and weary!
Lonely and drear is this foreign plain,Where I hear but my own voice back again,No call of the corncrake, cuckoo, or crane,Now awakens me on a Sunday!Then, och, och, Éire, O!Lost is the exile from Éire, O!'Tis my heart that is heavy and weary!
O, had I a boat and a single oar,With the help of God I'd reach Erin's shore,Nay, the very tide might drift me o'er,To die at home in Erin!Now, och, och, Éire, O!Would I were back in Éire, O!'Tis my heart that is heavy and weary!
Words in this poem
- lone n.
- A lane. See Loanin.
- drear n.
- Sadness; dismalness.
- corncrake n.
- A bird (Crex crex or C. pratensis) which frequents grain fields; the European crake or land rail; -- called also corn bird.
- erin n.
- An early, and now a poetic, name of Ireland. [Ir. Cf. Aryan.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Exile's Song is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poem-Book of the Gael Translations from Irish Gaelic Poetry into English Prose and Verse, Project Gutenberg ebook #46917; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Eleanor Hull, The Exile's Song, in The Poem-Book of the Gael (1912), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #46917, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/hull-gael/the-exile-s-song.html, id L11729.
Form and metre
The Exile's Song is 28 lines in 4 stanzas of 7 lines each. It is in rhyming couplets, 64% of the lines: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 72%). 82% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.6 syllables. 6 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending.
See other poems in heroic couplets, other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AAAABB- bayA · awayA · dayA · sundayA · oB · oB · weary
- 2 AAA-BB- irelandA · strandA · handA · me · oB · oB · weary
- 3 AAA-BB- plainA · againA · craneA · sunday · oB · oB · weary
- 4 AA--BB- oarA · shoreA · o'er · erin · oB · oB · weary
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Oh! were I again on my native bay, | 10 | ···˘/··/˘· |
| By the curving hills that are far away, | 10 | ··/˘····˘/ |
| I scarcely would wander for half a day | 10 | ·/˘·/˘···· |
| From the Cuckoo's Glen of a Sunday! | 9 | ··/˘···/· |
| For, och, och, Éire, O! | 5 | ····· |
| Lone is the exile from Éire, O! | 8 | ···/···· |
| 'Tis my heart that is heavy and weary! | 10 | ·····/˘·/˘ |
| O many a Christmas in Ireland, | 9 | ·/·/˘·/˘˘ |
| I would race with the boys on the pleasant strand, | 11 | ········/˘· |
| With my hurling-stick in my baby hand, | 10 | ··/˘···/˘· |
| And but little sense to guide me! | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| And, och, och, Éire, O! | 5 | ····· |
| Sad is the exile from Éire, O! | 8 | ···/···· |
| 'Tis my heart that is heavy and weary! | 10 | ·····/˘·/˘ |
| Lonely and drear is this foreign plain, | 9 | /˘····/˘· |
| Where I hear but my own voice back again, | 10 | ········˘/ |
| No call of the corncrake, cuckoo, or crane, | 10 | ····/˘/··· |
| Now awakens me on a Sunday! | 9 | ·˘/˘···/· |
| Then, och, och, Éire, O! | 5 | ····· |
| Lost is the exile from Éire, O! | 8 | ···/···· |
| 'Tis my heart that is heavy and weary! | 10 | ·····/˘·/˘ |
| O, had I a boat and a single oar, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| With the help of God I'd reach Erin's shore, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Nay, the very tide might drift me o'er, | 9 | ··/˘····· |
| To die at home in Erin! | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| Now, och, och, Éire, O! | 5 | ····· |
| Would I were back in Éire, O! | 7 | ······· |
| 'Tis my heart that is heavy and weary! | 10 | ·····/˘·/˘ |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.