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By Memory Inspired

Frank Harte
Language: English


Frank Harte


By Memory inspired,
And love of country fired,
The deeds of men I love to dwell upon;
And the patriotic glow
Of my spirits must bestow
A tribute to O’Connell that is gone, boys—gone:
Here’s a memory to the friends that are gone!

In October Ninety-seven—
May his soul find rest in Heaven—
William Orr to execution was led on:
The jury, drunk, agreed
That Irish was his creed;
For perjury and threats drove them on, boys—on:
Here’s the memory of John Mitchell that is gone!

In Ninety-eight—the month July—
The informer’s pay was high;
When Reynolds gave the gallows brave MacCann;
But MacCann was Reynolds’ first—
One could not allay his thirst;
So he brought up Bond and Byrne, that are gone, boys—gone:
Here’s the memory of the friends that are gone!

We saw a nation’s tears
Shed for John and Henry Shears;
Betrayed by Judas, Captain Armstrong;
We may forgive, but yet
We never can forget
The poisoning of Maguire that is gone, boys—gone:
Our high Star and true Apostle that is gone!

How did Lord Edward die?
Like a man, without a sigh;
But he left his handiwork on Major Swan!
But Sirr, with steel-clad breast,
And coward heart at best,
Left us cause to mourn Lord Edward that is gone, boys—gone:
Here’s the memory of our friends that are gone!

September, Eighteen-three,
Closed this cruel history,
When Emmet’s blood the scaffold flowed upon:
Oh, had their spirits been wise,
They might then realise
Their freedom, but we drink to Mitchell that is gone, boys—gone:
Here’s the memory of the friends that are gone!



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