Page:The Spirit of the Nation.djvu/14

2 III.

Aye! bitter hate, or cold neglect,

Or lukewarm love at best,

Is all we've found, or can expect,

We aliens of the west.

No friend beyond her own green shore,

Can Erin truly own;

Yet stronger is her trust, therefore,

In her brave sons.

IV.

Remember when our lot was worse—

Sunk, trampled to the dust;

'Twas long our weakness and our curse,

In stranger aid to trust.

And if, at length, we proudly trod

On bigot laws o'erthrown,

Who won that struggle? Under God,

Ourselves—.

V.

Oh, let its memory be enshrined

In Ireland's heart for ever:

It proves a banded people's mind

Must win in just endeavour;

It shows how wicked to despair,

How weak to idly groan—

If ills at others&apos; hands ye bear,

The cure is in.

VI.

The "foolish word impossible"

At once, for aye disdain;

No power can bar a people's will

A people's right to gain.

Be bold, united, firmly set,

Nor flinch in word or tone—

We'll be a glorious nation yet,

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