This is a song about the
Easter Uprising of 1916.
'Twas down the
glen one
Easter morn
To a city fair rode I.
When
Ireland's line of marching men
In
squadrons passed me by.
No
pipe did hum, no battle drum
Did sound its dread
tattoo
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey's swell
Rang out in the foggy dew.
Right proudly high over
Dublin town
They hung 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
Brittania's sons with their long-range guns
Sailed in from the foggy dew.
'Twas
England bade our wild geese go
That small nations might be free.
Their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves
On the fringe of the grey North Sea.
But had they died by Pearse's side
Or fought with Gathal Bruga,
Their graves we'd keep where the
Fenians sleep
'Neath the hills of
the foggy dew.
The bravest fell, and the solemn bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide
In the springing of the year.
And the world did gaze in deep amaze
At those fearless men and true
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew.
Also the name of 2 "Irish"
pubs in the
Vancouver area. The one on Loughheed is not bad.