Foggy Dew - Blaggards

As down the glen one Easter morn

To a city fair rode I

Where Armed lines of proud marching men

In squadrons passed me by

No fife did hum nor battle drum

Did sound it’s dread tattoo

But the Angelus bell o’er the Liffey swell

Rang out in the foggy dew

Right proudly high over Dublin Town

They hoisted the flag of war

'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky

Than at Sulva or Sud El Bar

And from the plains of Royal Meath

Strong men came hurrying through

While Britannia’s Huns, with their long range guns

Sailed in from the foggy dew

'Twas England bade our Wild Geese go

And small nations might be free

But their lonely graves are by Sulva’s waves

Or the shore of the Great North Sea

Oh, had they died by Pearse’s side

Or fought with Cathal Brugha

Their names we will keep where the fenians sleep

'Neath the shroud of the foggy dew

But the bravest fell as the requiem bell

Sang mournfully and clear

For those who died that Easter tide

In the springtime of the year

And the world did gaze with deep amaze

At those fearless men, but few

Who bore the fight that freedom’s light

Would shine through the foggy dew

Oh, back through the glen I rode again

And my heart with grief was sore

For I parted then with those valiant men

Whom I never shall see more

But to and fro in my dreams I go

And I’d kneel and pray for you

For slavery fled, O glorious dead

When you fell in the foggy dew