O’Neill’s Address. — Benburb: June 6, 1646
GALLANT sons of Innisfail,
Ye whose stout hearts never quail,
Though no glittering coats of mail
Their proud throbbings hide:
Hark! yon distant sullen hum!
’Tis the rolling of the drum.
See! our Saxon foemen come
In their wrath and pride.
Meet them, comrades, face to face,
Meet them as becomes our race,
Let no shadow of disgrace
Dim our spotless name.
Front to front, unshrinking, stand,
Fire each heart and nerve each hand,
Strike for God and fatherland,
Liberty and fame!
Kinsmen, they are still the same
As when, centuries past, they came
To our shores, and blood and flame
Followed in their track;
By the still uncancelled debt
We were cowards to forget,
By the wrongs we suffer yet,
Drive them headlong back!
As when angry billows leap,
Like proud chargers from the deep,
Heaven’s more mighty tempests sweep
All their wrath to spray,
So their glinting waves of steel
Erin’s whirlwind charge shall feel
Till their serried columns reel,
Scattered in dismay.
Strike, that Ireland’s sons may be
Still unconquered, proud, and free;
Strike, and fear not,—victory
Waits on every blow;
Strike, that we may never roam
Exiles o’er the ocean’s foam;
Strike together, and strike home,
Vengeance on the foe!