Robert Lyle is the Clan Elder of this branch of the Lyles in the United States.


Parents:
Father: John Lyle (1670 - 1740)
Born: Kyle, Ayrshire, Scotland; died County Antrim, Ireland
Mother: Mary Lyll (1670 - 1729)
Born: Born and died in County Antrim, Ireland

An Irish Song

The following poem was written by Robert Lyle in Ireland during the spring of 1741. He was harrowing oats, and as he and the team would rest, he wrote down the verses as they occurred to him. This was written before he and his brother, John, came to America.

This is taken from ‘The Lyles of Western Pennsylvania', compiled by Paul Edwin Kaup, 1987 edition.

All you my friends and neighbors near,
Which in Ireland doth remain,
It fills my heart with grief and care
To think I must leave you behind.

For I must sail on the ocean wide
To some plantation lately found,
For in this land I cannot abide-
Oppression doth so much abound

Our landlords! They do still increase
In wickedness and cruelty;
They put the poor all in distress,
And on the needy have no pity.

Likewise our tithers, both great and small,
Take from us that which is not due,
With catch-poll taxers and collectors,
And all the rest of the accursed crew.

Ireland was once a blessed isle,
Free from all beasts that were unclean;
But, now, alas! It is defiled
By such vermin as I have named.

Which makes us leave our native land,
May some destruction on them be cast,
For such oppression cannot stand;
An alteration will come at last.

Some do us tell we have no call
To go and leave our native land;
But we fear some evil yet to come,
To fly from which we have command

Like as Adam at God's command
To replenish the earth with man,
Therefore we, his posterity,
Are obliged to do the same.

This has been done in Africa,
In Europe and in Asia,
And now I think it lies on us
To replenish America.

Which in a wilderness remains,
Without inhabitants therein;
Where we expect for to erect
A church therein to worship Him.

All you that doth not know my name
And yet desire the same to find,
I will in letters here describe,
Which letters will begin the lines;

So that you may for our safety pray
When we are on the roaring main-
Both passengers and mariners-
So here my lines I now begin:

Rather than we will in bondage be,
Or under such taskmasters as these,
By God's assistance we will withdraw'
Europe we will no more come near;
Rely we will on the Almighty
To send us safely over the sea.

Like as to Israel, so may He
Yield us relief in the wilderness;
Leaving ourselves all in His care,
Even these few lines conclude my name.

The time draws near when I must away,
No longer here I can remain;
No ease of mind I here can find,
But will seek it across the briny main.

And that which adds unto my grief
Is the many sins which here abound,
Of which I think Pride is the chief;
For which we have evidence all around.

So fare you well, my parents dear,
Since it is so that we must part;
Farewell my brethren and sisters, too,
And you that young and tender art.

Farewell to all in general
That are my consanguinity;
To everyone, both old and young,
That are of my affinity.

You County of Antrim, fare you well,
My blessing ever dwell on you;
For here I nevermore shall dwell;
To Ireland's shore we'll bid adieu.

And sail away o'er the briny deep,
To that far off land across the sea;
And though friends may mourn for us and weep,
We'll put our trust, Oh God, in Thee.