Page:The Tricolour, Poems of the Irish Revolution.djvu/80

 I saw one go in the pale of the dawning, In a fair May-time a-telling the bees, Tapping the hive there she told of men dying, Many a dear name she called to the breeze.

They are coming, the bees, for the time is in blossom; They are coming, the bees, from the West, South, and East; They hum “donas Sasan,” they hum “Sonas Eireann, We gather the honey, prepare for the feast.”