Lament Of The Scotch-Irish Exile

Oh, I want to win me hame         To my ain countrie,     The land frae whence I came         Far away across the sea;     Bit I canna find it there, on the atlas anywhere,     And I greet and wonder sair         Where the deil it can be?     I hae never met a man,         In a' the warld wide,     Who has trod my native lan'         Or its distant shores espied;     But they tell me there's a place where my hypothetic race     Its dim origin can trace,         Tipperary-on-the-Clyde.     But anither answers: "Nae,         Ye are varra far frae richt;     Glasgow town in Dublin Bay         Is the spot we saw the licht."     But I dinna find the maps bearing out these pawkie chaps,     And I sometimes think perhaps         It has vanished out o' sight.     Oh, I fain wad win me hame         To that undiscovered lan'     That has neither place nor name         Where the Scoto-Irishman     May behold the castles fair by his fathers builded there     Many, many ages ere         Ancient history began.