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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 475 |
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One who through all that weary time
Roamed on a foreign strand; He brought them news from gallant friends
That made their heart-strings thrill — " My sow/ / I never doubted them ! "
Said Rory of the Hill.
They sat around the humble board
Till dawning of the day, And yet not song nor shout I heard —
No revelers were they: Some brows flushed red with gladness,
While some were grimly pale; But pale or red, from out those eyes
Flashed souls that never quail! "And sing us now about the vow,
They swore for to fulfil—" " You'll read it yet in history,"
Said Rory of the Hill.
Next day the ashen handle
He took down from where it hung, The toothed rake, full scornfully,
Into the fire he flung; And in its stead a shining blade
Is gleaming once again — (Oh ! for a hundred thousand of
Such weapons and such men !) Right soldierly he wielded it,
And—going through his drill— " Attention "—" charge "—" front, point"— "advance"
Cried Rory of the Hill. |
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