作曲 : Davis, Traditional When boyhood's fire was in my blood I read of ancient freemen, For Greece and Rome who bravely stood, Three hundred men and three men; And then I prayed I yet might see Our fetters rent in twain, And Ireland, long a province, be. A Nation once again! A Nation once again, A Nation once again, And lreland, long a province, be A Nation once again! And from that time, through wildest woe, That hope has shone a far light, Nor could love's brightest summer glow Outshine that solemn starlight; It seemed to watch above my head In forum, field and fane, Its angel voice sang round my bed, A Nation once again! It whisper'd too, that freedom's ark And service high and holy, Would be profaned by feelings dark And passions vain or lowly; For, Freedom comes from God's right hand, And needs a Godly train; And righteous men must make our land A Nation once again! So, as I grew from boy to man, I bent me to that bidding My spirit of each selfish plan And cruel passion ridding; For, thus I hoped some day to aid, Oh, can such hope be vain ? When my dear country shall be made A Nation once again!
作曲 : Davis, Traditional When boyhood's fire was in my blood I read of ancient freemen, For Greece and Rome who bravely stood, Three hundred men and three men; And then I prayed I yet might see Our fetters rent in twain, And Ireland, long a province, be. A Nation once again! A Nation once again, A Nation once again, And lreland, long a province, be A Nation once again! And from that time, through wildest woe, That hope has shone a far light, Nor could love's brightest summer glow Outshine that solemn starlight; It seemed to watch above my head In forum, field and fane, Its angel voice sang round my bed, A Nation once again! It whisper'd too, that freedom's ark And service high and holy, Would be profaned by feelings dark And passions vain or lowly; For, Freedom comes from God's right hand, And needs a Godly train; And righteous men must make our land A Nation once again! So, as I grew from boy to man, I bent me to that bidding My spirit of each selfish plan And cruel passion ridding; For, thus I hoped some day to aid, Oh, can such hope be vain ? When my dear country shall be made A Nation once again!
