Erin's Lovely Home

My father, he being a farmer reared to industry
 He had four sons, two men who'd grown, and lovely daughters three
 Our land's too small to serve us all so some of us must roam
 Our friends may mourn for we'll never return to Erin's lovely home
 My father, he sold the second cow and he borrowed twenty pounds
 It was in the pleasant month of May we sailed from Belfast town
 With thousands more we left our shore in safety to roam
 Our friends may mourn for we'll never return to Erin's lovely home
 We hadn't been long sailing when fever seized our crew
 Falling like the autumn leaves and overboard were threw
 The ocean waves, they rolled o'er our graves, our bed the ocean foam
 Our friends may mourn for we'll never return to Erin's lovely home