My Lyrical Life Poems Old and New. By Gerald Massey |
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TO-MORROW! |
 | My Lyrical Life |  |
TO-MORROW!
Though not yet freed—from England's Soul
There's one more Fetter broken!
The spirit that will reach the goal,
And win at last, has spoken.
We Swear—and all the world has heard—
To end this Shame and Sorrow;
And as God lives To-Day, that Word
Shall be our Deed To-Morrow.
There's one more Fetter broken!
The spirit that will reach the goal,
And win at last, has spoken.
We Swear—and all the world has heard—
To end this Shame and Sorrow;
And as God lives To-Day, that Word
Shall be our Deed To-Morrow.
Our opening eyes, at length, though late,
Can see the Ancient Blindness;
And we, who crushed each other in hate,
Would try the Clasp of Kindness,—
Would reach the Irish heart with grip
Frank, honest, trustful, thorough;
And show how fearless Statesmanship
Can make us Friends To-Morrow.
Can see the Ancient Blindness;
And we, who crushed each other in hate,
Would try the Clasp of Kindness,—
Would reach the Irish heart with grip
Frank, honest, trustful, thorough;
And show how fearless Statesmanship
Can make us Friends To-Morrow.
426
You had to trust them many a time,
As on them Napier reckoned
To win Meeanee's fight sublime,
With his glorious “Twenty-Second”—
“Magnificent Tipperary!” He
Could lean on them, and borrow
His rest that night! for Victory
Would march with them To-Morrow.
As on them Napier reckoned
To win Meeanee's fight sublime,
With his glorious “Twenty-Second”—
“Magnificent Tipperary!” He
Could lean on them, and borrow
His rest that night! for Victory
Would march with them To-Morrow.
To think of all our Irish Dead
Should thrill you English living!
For us they fought, for us they bled,
To us the triumph giving!
Foremost on many a bloody day
They charged with their wild “Hurroo!”
Through England's Foes they clove a way
For Ireland free To-Morrow.
Should thrill you English living!
For us they fought, for us they bled,
To us the triumph giving!
Foremost on many a bloody day
They charged with their wild “Hurroo!”
Through England's Foes they clove a way
For Ireland free To-Morrow.
For us they conquered as they died,
And with their last endeavour,
Dying for England, still they cried,
“Old Ireland for ever!”
Their dust has given us deeper root
In many a field and furrow;
We think 'tis time they shared the fruit,
And they shall share To-Morrow!
And with their last endeavour,
Dying for England, still they cried,
“Old Ireland for ever!”
Their dust has given us deeper root
In many a field and furrow;
We think 'tis time they shared the fruit,
And they shall share To-Morrow!
| My Lyrical Life | |