Tekst piosenki:
As down the glen one Easter morn'
To a city fair rode I.
Their armed lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by.
No pipes did hum, nor battle drum
Did sound its dread'd 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 a 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 Brittania's sons with their long-range guns
Sailed in by the foggy dew.
But the bravest fell and the solemn bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide
In the springtime of the year
And the world did gaze in deep amaze
At those stone-hearted men, but few
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine through 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 gray North Sea.
Oh, had they died by Pearse's side
Or fought with Cathal Brugha,
Their names we would keep where the Fenians sleep
'Neath the shroud of the foggy dew.
Back to the glen I rode again
My heart with grief was sore
For I parted with those valiant men
I never would see no more.
And to and fro in my dreams I'll go and
I'll and pray for you,
For slavery fled, o rebel dead, when
you fell in the foggy dew.
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