How oft has the Banshee cried,
How oft has death untied
Bright links that Glory wove,
Sweet bonds entwined by Love!
Peace to each manly soul that sleepeth;
Rest to each faithful eye that weepeth;
Long may the fair and brave
Sigh o'er the hero's grave.
We're fallen upon gloomy days![1]
Star after star decays,
Every bright name, that shed
Light o'er the land, is fled.
Dark falls the tear of him who mourneth
Lost joy, or hope that ne'er returneth;
But brightly flows the tear,
Wept o'er a hero's bier.
Quenched are our beacon lights--
Thou, of the Hundred Fights![2]
Thou, on whose burning tongue
Truth, peace, and freedom hung!
Both mute,--but long as valor shineth,
Or Mercy's soul at war repineth,
So long shall Erin's pride
Tell how they lived and died.