As down the glen one Easter morn To a city fair rode I There armed lines of marching men In squadrons passed me by No pipe did hum, no battle drum Did sound it's loud tattoo But the angelus bells O'er the liffey swells Rang out in the foggy dew
Right proudly high in Dublin town Hung they out a flag of war ‘Twas better to die ‘neath An Irish sky Than at suvla 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 through the foggy dew The bravest fell And the requiem bell Rang mournfully and clear For those who died that Easter-tide In the springing of the year While the world did gaze With deep amaze At those fearless men but few Who bore the fight That freedom's light Might shine through the foggy dew
And back though The glen I rode again And my heart with grief was sore For I parted then with valiant men Whom I never shall see more But to and fro In my dreams I go And I kneel and pray for you For slavery fled Oh, glorious dead When you fell in the foggy dewTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
