Poems (Henderson)/A Voice of Erin
A VOICE OF ERIN.
Oh! green isle of Erin, the touch of the master,
O'er the chords of thy broken harp thrills,
Reechoes, and trances with strains of enchantment,
The brave hearts of liberty still.
O'er the chords of thy broken harp thrills,
Reechoes, and trances with strains of enchantment,
The brave hearts of liberty still.
Oh! patriot hearts in freedom uprising,
From a monarch's tyrannical rule,
The blood of thy martyrs shall stain her proud banner,
When'er to the free winds unfurled.
From a monarch's tyrannical rule,
The blood of thy martyrs shall stain her proud banner,
When'er to the free winds unfurled.
In dungeons of deepest and darkest distress,
Consigned by the merciless hand,
Of a monarch, the flower of Ireland perished,
Or died by the murderer's hand.
Consigned by the merciless hand,
Of a monarch, the flower of Ireland perished,
Or died by the murderer's hand.
Oh! Ireland, arise in the strength of thy might,
Thy beautiful garments put on,
For see in the distance the fast-growing light,
When the sweet green shamrock shall bloom—
Thy beautiful garments put on,
For see in the distance the fast-growing light,
When the sweet green shamrock shall bloom—
In its brightness and beauty, its petals unfolding,
In Liberty's soil ever nourished by light,
Of Freedom's bright sun, whose shadow shall ever,
Adorn thy fair banner of right.
In Liberty's soil ever nourished by light,
Of Freedom's bright sun, whose shadow shall ever,
Adorn thy fair banner of right.
