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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 251 |
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When with Pale for the body and Pale for the soul, Church and State joined in compact to conquer the
whole, And, as Shannon was stained with Milesian blood, Eyed each other askance and pronounced it was good.
By the groans that ascend from your forefathers' grave For their country thus left to the brute and the slave, Drive the demon of Bigotry home to his den, And where Britain made brutes now let Erin make men. Let my sons, like the leaves of the shamrock, unite — A partition of sects from one footstalk of right; Give each his full share of the earth and the sky, Nor fatten the slave where the serpent would die.
Alas! for poor Erin that some are still seen
Who would dye the grass red from their hatred to Green:
Yet, oh! when you're up and they're down, let them
live, Then yield them that mercy which they would not
give. Arm of Erin, be strong ! but be gentle as brave ! And, uplifted to strike, be as ready to save! Let no feeling of vengeance presume to defile The cause or the men of the Emerald Isle.
The cause it is good, and the men they are true, And the Green shall outlive both the Orange and Blue ! And the triumphs of Erin her daughters shall share With the full swelling chest and the fair flowing hair. Their bosom heaves high for the worthy and brave, But no coward shall rest in that soft-swelling wave. Men of Erin ! awake, and make haste to be blest! Rise, Arch of the Ocean and Queen of the West! |
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