Oh, down the glen I went one morn, To a city there rode I. There Ireland's lines of marchin' men In squadrons passed me by. No pipe did hum, nor no battle drum Did send it straight and true. Nor the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey swell Rang out in the foggy dew. Right proudly high over Dublin town They hung out the flag of war, For 'twas better to die 'neath a Dublin sky Than at Suvla or Sud-el-bar. And from the plains of Royal Meath Strong men came hurryin' through, For Britannia's sons with their long-range guns Sailed in through the foggy dew. The bravest fell, and the solemn bell Rang mournfully and clear For those that died that Eastertide In the springtime of the year. The world could gaze with deep amaze At those fairest men but true Who bore the fight that freedom's light Might shine through the foggy dew.
Oh, down the glen I went one morn, To a city there rode I. There Ireland's lines of marchin' men In squadrons passed me by. No pipe did hum, nor no battle drum Did send it straight and true. Nor the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey swell Rang out in the foggy dew. Right proudly high over Dublin town They hung out the flag of war, For 'twas better to die 'neath a Dublin sky Than at Suvla or Sud-el-bar. And from the plains of Royal Meath Strong men came hurryin' through, For Britannia's sons with their long-range guns Sailed in through the foggy dew. The bravest fell, and the solemn bell Rang mournfully and clear For those that died that Eastertide In the springtime of the year. The world could gaze with deep amaze At those fairest men but true Who bore the fight that freedom's light Might shine through the foggy dew.
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