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426 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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JOHN KELLS INGRAM (1823- )
THE MEMORY OF THE DEAD
W
HO fears to speak of Ninety-Eight? Who blushes at the name ? When the cowards mock the patriot's fate, Who hangs his head for shame ? He's all a knave or half a slave Who slights his country thus: But a true man, like you, man, Will fill your glass with us.
We drink the memory of the brave,
The faithful and the few — Some lie far off beyond the wave,
Some sleep in Ireland, too; All, all are gone—but still lives on
The fame of those who died; And true men, like you, men,
Remember them with pride.
Some on the shores of distant lands
Their weary hearts have laid, And by the stranger's heedless hands
Their lonely graves were made; But though their clay be far away
Beyond the Atlantic foam, In true men, like you, men,
Their spirit's still at home. |
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