Page:The Spirit of the Nation.djvu/29

Rh Too long we fought for Britain's cause,

And of our blood were never chary;

She paid us back with tyrant laws,

And thinned The Homes of Tipperary.

But never more we'll win such thanks;

We swear by God, and Virgin Mary,

Never to list in British ranks;"

And that's The Vow of Tipperary.

Seize thy pencil, child of art!

Fame and fortune brighten o'er thee;

Great thy hand, and great thy heart,

If well thou do'st the work before thee!

'Tis not thine to round the shield,

Or point the sabre, black or gory;

'Tis not thine to spread the field,

Where crime is crown'd—where guilt is glory.

Child of art! to thee be given

To paint in colours all unclouded,

Breakings of a radiant heaven

O'er an isle in darkness shrouded!

But to paint them true and well,

Every ray we see them shedding

In its very light must tell

What a gloom before was spreading.