Page:The Tricolour, Poems of the Irish Revolution.djvu/74

 He seeks his prey, he tracks thee down His voice is soft, his words are fair, It is the creeping foe, Beware!

Ah, Grannia Wael, in blood and tears We fought thy battles through the years, That thou shouldst live we're glad to die In prison cell or gallows high. Oh, cursed be he ! who to our shame Drives forth thy manhood in thy name, O, WHILE THE LION LAPS YOUR BLOOD SHALL WE UNITE IN SERVITUDE.