Page:The Spirit of the Nation.djvu/138

42 IV.

Around my clarseach's speaking measures

Men like their fathers tall arise—

Their heart the same deep hatred treasures,

I read it in their kindling eyes!

The same proud brow to frown at danger—

The same dark coolin's graceful flow—

The same dear tongue to curse the stranger—

Ma chreevin evin, alga O!

V.

I'd sing ye more but age is stealing

O'er my pulse and tuneful fires;

Far bolder woke my chord appealing

For craven Shemus to your sires.

Arouse to vengeance men of bravery,

For broken oaths—for altars low—

For bonds that bind in bitter slavery—

Ma chreevin evin, alga O!

MAY, 1689.

I.

Shout it out, till it ring

From Benmore to Cape Clear;

For our Country, and King,

And Religion so dear,

Rally, rally—Irishmen! rally;

Form round the flag, that wet with our tears,

And torn, and bloody, lay hid for long years,

And now once again in its pride re-appears.

See from our Green Banner waves!

Bearing fit motto for up-rising slaves!