Page:The Tricolour, Poems of the Irish Revolution.djvu/26



I were over the Curlew Mountains, Marching to Sligo by valley and fen; I wish I were back in the years of Sarsfield, Tramping the rough roads with him and his men.

I wish that I stood upon Yellow Island, Watching the camp that the Williamites made; I wish that my good gun was pressed to my shoulder And that my caubeen held the white cockade.

I wish I were out with “galloping Hogan,” Happy a guide for my hero to be, Encamped for the night on the Keeper Mountain, Ready to guard with the brave rapparee.