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The Irish Stranger

Andy M. Stewart
Version1
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90

Chords in this song

Strum
D-DU-UDU
Pity  the fate  of a poor  Irish stranger,
 That wanders  so far  from his home,
That  sighs for protection  from want,  woe, and danger,
 That knows  not from which  way for to roam.
 Yet I'll never return  to Hibernia's  green bowers,
 For tyranny tramples  the sweetest  of flowers,
 That once  gave me comfort  in loneliest hours—
 Now they are gone  I shall ne'er  see them more.
 With wonder I gazed on yon lofty building,
 As in grandeur I rose from its lord,
 But soon I beheld my fair garden yielding
 The choicest of fruit for his foe.
 But, where is my father's lone cottage of clay,
 Wherein I' ve spent many a long day,
 Alas ! has his lordship conniv'd it away ?
 Yes, it is gone, I shall never see it more.
 When nature was seen in the sloe bush and bramble,
 All smiling in beautiful bloom,
 Over the fields without danger, I often
 Did ramble amidst their perfume ;
 I have wranged through the woods where the gay feather'd
 throng
 Joyfully sung their loud echoing song—
 These days then of summer passed sweetly along,
 Now they're gone—I shall ne'er see them more !
 When the sloe and the berries hung ripe on the bushes
 I have gathered them off without harm—
 I have gone to the field and shorn the green rushes,
 Preparing for winter's cold storm !
 Along with my friends telling tales of delight,
 Beguiling the hours of the long winter's night,
 Those days gave me pleasure—I could them invite ;
 Now they're gone, I shall ne'er see them more.
 Oh, Erin ! oh, Erin ! it grieves me to ponder
 The wrongs of thy injurned isle !
 Of thy sons may a thousand from home do wander
 On shores far away an exile !
 But give me the power to cross the main,
 Calumbia might yield me some shelter from pain,
 I am only lamenting whilst here I remain,
 For the boys I shall ne'er see again.

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Readable chord sheet for The Irish Stranger by Andy M. Stewart

[G]Pity the [C]fate of a [G]poor Irish [Em]stranger,
That [G]wanders so [D]far from his [C]home, [G]
[G]That sighs for pro[D]tection from [G]want, woe, and [C]danger,
That [G]knows not from [D]which way for to [C]roam.[G]

Yet I'll [F]never [C]return to [G]Hibernia's green bowers,
For [F]tyranny [C]tramples the [G]sweetest of flowers,
That [F]once gave me [C]comfort in [G]loneliest [Em]hours—
Now they are [G]gone I shall [D]ne'er see them [C]more.  [G]

With wonder I gazed on yon lofty building,
As in grandeur I rose from its lord,
But soon I beheld my fair garden yielding
The choicest of fruit for his foe.
But, where is my father's lone cottage of clay,
Wherein I' ve spent many a long day,
Alas ! has his lordship conniv'd it away ?
Yes, it is gone, I shall never see it more.

When nature was seen in the sloe bush and bramble,
All smiling in beautiful bloom,
Over the fields without danger, I often
Did ramble amidst their perfume ;
I have wranged through the woods where the gay feather'd
throng
Joyfully sung their loud echoing song—
These days then of summer passed sweetly along,
Now they're gone—I shall ne'er see them more !

When the sloe and the berries hung ripe on the bushes
I have gathered them off without harm—
I have gone to the field and shorn the green rushes,
Preparing for winter's cold storm !
Along with my friends telling tales of delight,
Beguiling the hours of the long winter's night,
Those days gave me pleasure—I could them invite ;
Now they're gone, I shall ne'er see them more.

Oh, Erin ! oh, Erin ! it grieves me to ponder
The wrongs of thy injurned isle !
Of thy sons may a thousand from home do wander
On shores far away an exile !
But give me the power to cross the main,
Calumbia might yield me some shelter from pain,
I am only lamenting whilst here I remain,
For the boys I shall ne'er see again.