Page:The Spirit of the Nation.djvu/110

14 Hurrah! "the sun burst!"—Once again Our oriflamme is on the gale, With shamrock wreaths encircling The blazon'd glorious words "!" The coward slave that quits his post, Let Argus eyes the traitor scan, And infamy, eternal, brand The anti-Irish Irishman!

I.

They rose to guard their fatherland— In stern resolve they rose— In bearing firm—in purpose grand— To meet the world as foes. They rose as brave men ever do; And, flashing bright, They bore to light The Arms of "Eighty-two!"

II.

Oh! 'twas a proud and solemn sight To mark that broad array, Come forth to claim a nation's right 'Gainst all who dared gainsay; And despots shrunk, appall'd to view The men who bore From shore to shore, The Arms of "Eighty-two!"

III.

They won her right—they passed away Within the tomb they rest— And coldly lies the mournful clay Above each manly breast; But Ireland still may proudly view What that bright host Had cherished most— The Arms of "Eighty-two!"