Page:Songs, Legends, and Ballads.djvu/126

114 Their foemen are proud of the country that bore them;
 * But, Irish in love, they are enemies still.

Out rings the fierce word, "Let them have it!" the rifles
 * Are emptied point-blank in the hearts of the foe:

It is green against green, but a principle stilles
 * The Irishman's love in the Georgian's blow.

The column has reeled, but it is not defeated;
 * In front of the guns they re-form and attack;

Six times they have done it, and six times retreated;
 * Twelve hundred they came, and two hundred go back.

Two hundred go back with the chivalrous story;
 * The wild day is closed in the night's solemn shroud;

A thousand lie dead, but their death was a glory
 * That calls not for tears—the Green Badges are proud!