As Down The Glen One Easter Morn

[Verse 1]
As down the glen one Easter morn, to a city fair rode I
There armèd lines of marching men, in squadrons passed me by
No pipe did hum, no battle drum, did beat out its wild tattoo
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey swell, it rang out in the foggy dew

[Verse 2]
Right proudly high over Dublin town, we flung out our flag of war
It was 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 Britannia's Huns and their long-ranged guns, poured hell through the foggy dew

[Verse 3]
It was England bad' our wild geese go, that small nations might be free
But their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves, or the fringe of the great North Sea
Now had they died by Pearce's side, or fallen by Cathal Brugha
Their names we would keep, where the Fenians sleep, who fell in the foggy dew

[Verse 4]
As back again through the glen I rode, my heart with grief was sore
For that gallant band of fighting men, I never would see more
And to and fro in my grief I go, I think gallant comrades of you
For slavery fled, most glorious dead, when you fell in the foggy dew