NOR right, nor left, nor any road I see a comrade face, br Nor word to lift the heart in me I hear in any place; br They leave me, who pass by me, to my loneliness and br care, br Without a house to draw my step nor a fire that I might share! br br Ochone, before our people knew the scatt'ring of the br dearth, br Before they saw potatoes rot and melt black in the earth, br I might have stood in Connacht, on the top of Cruchmaelinn, br And all around me I would see the hundreds of my br kin.