Tis Sad to Leave Your Fatherland


A.W. AUNER, SONG PUBLISHER & PRINTER, Tenth and Race Sts., Philadelphia, Pa.

’Tis Sad To Leave Your Fatherland.

’Tis sad to leave your fatherland,
And friends you loved there well,
To wander on a stranger strand,
Where friends but seldom dwell.
Yet, hard as are such ills to bear,
And deeply though they smart,
Their pangs sre slight to those who are
The orphans of the heart.

Oh, if there were one gentle eye,
To weep when I might grieve,
One bosom to receive the sigh,
Which sorrow oft will heave—
One heart, the ways of life to cheer,
Tho’ rugged they might be,
No language can express how dear,
That heart would be to me.

A.W. AUNER’S CARD AND JOB PRINTING ROOMS, Tenth and Race Sts., Philadelphia, Pa.

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