The tribune's tongue and poet's pen May sow the seed in prostrate men; But 'tis the soldier's sword alone Can reap the crop so bravely sown! No more I'll sing nor idly pine,...
Thrice, at the huts of Fontenoy, the English column failed, And twice the lines of Saint Antoine the Dutch in vain assailed; For town and slope were filled with fort and flanking battery,...
"Did they dare, did they dare, to slay Eoghan Ruadh O'Neill?" "Yes, they slew with poison him they feared to meet with steel." "May God wither up their hearts! May their blood cease to flow!...
Bright red is the sun on the waves of Lough Sheelin, A cool, gentle breeze from the mountain is stealing, While fair round its islets the small ripples play,...