LightNovesOnl.com

Thomas Davis, Selections from his Prose and Poetry Part 45

Thomas Davis, Selections from his Prose and Poetry - LightNovelsOnl.com

You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.

III.

What matter that at different shrines We pray unto one G.o.d?

What matter that at different times Your fathers won this sod?

In fortune and in name we're bound By stronger links than steel; And neither can be safe nor sound But in the other's weal.

IV.

As Nubian rocks, and Ethiop sand Long drifting down the Nile, Built up old Egypt's fertile land For many a hundred mile, So Pagan clans to Ireland came, And clans of Christendom, Yet joined their wisdom and their fame To build a nation from.

V.

Here came the brown Phoenician, The man of trade and toil-- Here came the proud Milesian, A hungering for spoil; And the Firbolg and the Cymry, And the hard, enduring Dane, And the iron Lords of Normandy, With the Saxons in their train.

VI.

And oh! it were a gallant deed To show before mankind, How every race and every creed Might be by love combined-- Might be combined, yet not forget The fountains whence they rose, As, filled by many a rivulet, The stately Shannon flows.

VII.

Nor would we wreak our ancient feud On Belgian or on Dane, Nor visit in a hostile mood The hearths of Gaul or Spain; But long as on our country lies The Anglo-Norman yoke, Their tyranny we'll stigmatize, And G.o.d's revenge invoke.

VIII.

We do not hate, we never cursed, Nor spoke a foeman's word Against a man in Ireland nursed, Howe'er we thought he erred; So start not, Irish-born man, If you're to Ireland true, We heed not race, nor creed, nor clan, We've hearts and hands for you.

--------------------------------------------------------------- [83] Written in reply to some very beautiful verses printed in the _Evening Mail_, deprecating and defying the a.s.sumed hostility of the Irish Celts to the _Irish_ Saxons.

ORANGE AND GREEN WILL CARRY THE DAY.

AIR--_The Protestant Boys._

I.

Ireland! rejoice, and England! deplore-- Faction and feud are pa.s.sing away.

'Twas a low voice, but 'tis a loud roar, "Orange and Green will carry the day."

Orange! Orange!

Green and Orange!

Pitted together in many a fray-- Lions in fight!

And linked in their might, Orange and Green will carry the day.

Orange! Orange!

Green and Orange!

Wave them together o'er mountain and bay.

Orange and Green!

Our King and our Queen!

"Orange and Green will carry the day!"

II.

Rusty the swords our fathers unsheathed-- William and James are turned to clay-- Long did we till the wrath they bequeathed, Red was the crop, and bitter the pay!

Freedom fled us!

Knaves misled us!

Under the feet of the foemen we lay-- Riches and strength We'll win them at length, For Orange and Green will carry the day!

Landlords fooled us; England ruled us, Hounding our pa.s.sions to make us their prey; But, in their spite, The Irish UNITE, And Orange and Green will carry the day!

III.

Fruitful our soil where honest men starve; Empty the mart, and s.h.i.+pless the bay; Out of our want the Oligarchs carve; Foreigners fatten on our decay!

Disunited, Therefore blighted, Ruined and rent by the Englishman's sway; Party and creed For once have agreed-- Orange and Green will carry the day!

Boyne's old water, Red with slaughter!

Now is as pure as an infant at play; So, in our souls, Its history rolls, And Orange and Green will carry the day!

IV.

English deceit can rule us no more; Bigots and knaves are scattered like spray-- Deep was the oath the Orangeman swore, "Orange and Green must carry the day!"

Orange! Orange!

Bless the Orange!

Tories and Whigs grew pale with dismay, When from the North Burst the cry forth, "Orange and Green will carry the day!"

No surrender!

No Pretender!

Never to falter and never betray-- With an Amen, We swear it again, ORANGE AND GREEN SHALL CARRY THE DAY.

THE LOST PATH.

AIR--_Gradh mo chroidhe._

I.

Sweet thoughts, bright dreams, my comfort be, All comfort else has flown; For every hope was false to me, And here I am, alone.

What thoughts were mine in early youth!

Like some old Irish song, Brimful of love, and life, and truth, My spirit gushed along.

II.

Click Like and comment to support us!

RECENTLY UPDATED NOVELS

About Thomas Davis, Selections from his Prose and Poetry Part 45 novel

You're reading Thomas Davis, Selections from his Prose and Poetry by Author(s): Thomas Osborne Davis. This novel has been translated and updated at LightNovelsOnl.com and has already 544 views. And it would be great if you choose to read and follow your favorite novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest novels, a novel list updates everyday and free. LightNovelsOnl.com is a very smart website for reading novels online, friendly on mobile. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact us at [email protected] or just simply leave your comment so we'll know how to make you happy.