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476 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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She looked at him with woman's pride,
With pride and woman's fears; She flew to him, she clung to him,
And dried away her tears ; He feels her pulse beat truly,
While her arms around him twine— "Now God be praised for your stout heart,
Brave little wife of mine.'' He swung his first-born in the air,
While joy his heart did fill — " You'll be a freeman yet, my boy,"
Said Rory of the Hill.
Oh ! knowledge is a wondrous power,
And stronger than the wind; And thrones shall fall, and despots bow,
Before the might of mind; The poet and the orator
The heart of man can sway, And would to the kind heavens
That Wolfe Tone were here to-day ! Yet trust me, friends, dear Ireland's strength —
Her truest strength—is still The rough-and-ready roving boys,
Like Rory of the Hill. |
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