The Foggy Dew

I was down the glen one Easter morn'

To a city fair rode I

There, armed lines of marching men

In squadrons passed me by

No pipe did hum, no battle drum

Did sound its loud tattoo

But the Angelus bells o'er the Liffey swells

Rang out in the foggy dew

Right proudly high in Dublin Town

Hung they out the flag of war

'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky

Than at Suvla or Sedd el Bahr

And from the plains of Royal Meath

Strong men came hurrying through

While Britannia's Huns, with their long-range guns

Sailed in through the foggy dew

The bravest fell, and the Requiem bell

Rang mournfully and clear

For those who died that Eastertide

In the springing of the year

While the world did gaze, with deep amaze

At those fearless men, but few

Who bore the fight that freedom's light

Might shine through the foggy dew

Back, back through the glen

I rode again

And my heart, with grief, was sore

For I parted then with valiant men

Whom I never shall see more

But to and fro, in my dreams I go

And I kneel and pray for you

For slavery fled, oh, glorious dead

When you fell in the foggy dew