 | Salutation |  |
SALUTATION
Their dream had left me numb and cold,
But yet my spirit rose in pride,
Refashioning in burnished gold
The images of those who died
Or were shut in the penal cell.
Here's to you, Pearse, your dream not mine,
But yet the thought for this you fell
Has turned life's waters into wine.
But yet my spirit rose in pride,
Refashioning in burnished gold
The images of those who died
Or were shut in the penal cell.
Here's to you, Pearse, your dream not mine,
But yet the thought for this you fell
Has turned life's waters into wine.
I listened to high talk from you,
Thomas MacDonagh, and it seemed
The words were idle, but they grew
To nobleness by death redeemed.
Life cannot utter words more great
Than life may meet by sacrifice:
High words were equalled by high fate,
You paid the price. You paid the price.
Thomas MacDonagh, and it seemed
The words were idle, but they grew
To nobleness by death redeemed.
Life cannot utter words more great
Than life may meet by sacrifice:
High words were equalled by high fate,
You paid the price. You paid the price.
The hope lives on age after age
Earth with its beauty might be won
For labour as a heritage.
For this has Ireland lost a son.
This hope unto a flame to fan
Men have put life by with a smile.
Here's to you, Connolly, my man,
Who cast the last torch on the pile.
Earth with its beauty might be won
For labour as a heritage.
For this has Ireland lost a son.
Men have put life by with a smile.
Here's to you, Connolly, my man,
Who cast the last torch on the pile.
Here's to the women of our blood
Stood by them in the fiery hour,
Rapt lest some weakness in their mood
Rob manhood of a single power.
You, brave on such a hope forlorn,
Who smiled through crack of shot and shell,
Though the world cry on you in scorn,
Here's to you, Constance, in your cell.
Stood by them in the fiery hour,
Rapt lest some weakness in their mood
Rob manhood of a single power.
You, brave on such a hope forlorn,
Who smiled through crack of shot and shell,
Though the world cry on you in scorn,
Here's to you, Constance, in your cell.
Here's to you men I never met,
Yet hope to meet behind the veil,
Thronged on some starry parapet
That looks down upon Innisfail,
And see the confluence of dreams
That clashed together in our night,
One river born from many streams,
Roll in one blaze of blinding light.
Yet hope to meet behind the veil,
Thronged on some starry parapet
That looks down upon Innisfail,
And see the confluence of dreams
That clashed together in our night,
One river born from many streams,
Roll in one blaze of blinding light.
| Salutation | |