Tom Lenihan (1908-1990), "the long song singer," recorded at his home in Knockbrack, Slieve Callan, Milltown Malbay, Co Clare.
An Irish boy he sat alone by Susquehanna shore,
Reposing on the weary miles he lately wandered o’er.
So sadly, sweetly, low he sang, while falling tears did blind,
But still the burden of his woe was the home he left behind.
Now summer smiles in Erin’s Isle in hills and valleys gay,
Where my contented playmates all together sport and play.
The milkmaid’s song now floats along its perfume-laden wind,
And woodbines blow and daisies grow round the home I’ve left behind.
Next Sunday at the crossroad dance will lads and lassies throng,
Then homeward ramble hand in hand, the weary lanes among.
But I can’t join their sports no more, nor ever, ever, find
My heart at rest in some fond breast in the home I’ve left behind.
It was a dreary winter day, the snow lay on the moor,
When landlord, bailiff and police broke in our cottage door.
They drove my widowed mother forth, but death to her was kind.
She sleeps beside my father near the home I’ve left behind.
And now I wander sad and lone among these prairies wild,
Still dreaming o’er each happy scene that blessed me when a child.
Cold strangers, heedless, mark my tears, but never can I find
That friendly smile of my mother dear in the home I’ve left behind.