THE LANGUAGE OF EIRDSo 
Like thee, the storm beheld her birth, 
And she was nursed by rugged hands. 
But, past the fierce and furious war, 
Her rising fame new glory brings, 
For kings and nobles come from far, 
To seek the shelter of her wings ; 
And, like thee, rider of the cloud ! 
She mounts the heavens serene and proud. 
Great in a pure and noble fame, 
Great in her spotless champion's name. 
And destined in her day to be 
Mighty as Rome — more nobly free. 
My native land — my native land ! 
To whom my thoughts will fondly turn, 
For her the warmest hopes expand, 
For her the heart with fears will yearn. 
Oh, may she keep her eye, like thee. 
Proud eagle of the rocky wild. 
Fixed on the sun of liberty, 
By rank, by faction, unbeguiled ; 
Remembering still the rugged road 
Our venerable fathers trod, 
