The Foggy Dew

As down the glen one Easter morn' to a city fair rode I There, armed lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by No pipes did hum, no battle drum did sound its loud tattoo But the Angelus Bell o'er the Liffey's swell rang out in the foggy dew Right proudly high over Dublin Town they hung out the flag of war 'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky than at Suvla or Sud-El-Bar And from the plains of Royal Meath, strong men came hurrying through While Britannia's Huns with their greatbig guns Sailed in through the foggy dew Oh, the night fell black and the rifles' crack made perfidious Albion reel In the leaden rain Seven tongues of flame did shine o'er the lines of steel By each shining blade a prayer was said that to Ireland her sons be true When the morning broke Still the war flag shook out its folds in the foggy dew 'Twas England bade our wild geese go, that small nations might be free But their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves Or the fringe of the great North Sea Oh, had they died by Pearse's side or fought with Cathal Brugha Their names we will keep where the Fenians sleep 'Neath the shroud of the foggy dew Oh, the bravest fell, and the Requiem bell rang mournfully and clear For those who died that Eastertide in the spring time 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 through the glen, I rode again, my heart with grief was sore For I parted with those gallant 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, O glorious dead, when you fell in the foggy dew